


Nature vs. Nurture

by princegayming



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Harry Potter, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexual Tom Riddle, Dimension Travel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Multi, Ratings too, Sane Tom Riddle, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Time Travel, Tom gets called handsome and pretty a lot, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 81,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princegayming/pseuds/princegayming
Summary: A young Tom Riddle shows up smack in the middle of Horace Slughorn's living just as Harry was judging the hell out of the older man's taste in interior design.A what-if story that looks into what Tom Marvolo Riddle would be like had he been raised by his father as the Riddle heir and then thrown 53 years into the future to subsequently join Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. Expect immoral decisions, disrupted golden trio dynamics, Horcruxes twists, the casual unforgivable thrown here and there, and the start of something suspiciously similar to attraction inside Harry's gut that he did not ask for, at all.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 99
Kudos: 174





	1. Snake on the Floor

Albus Dumbledore was an extravagant, brilliant man who at the turn of the hat could turn deadly, and Harry respected him greatly. Barring the absolute bugger show that was Harry’s fifth year—which ended with him throwing the tantrum to end all his previous tantrums and destroying half of the headmaster's office—Harry could always count on Dumbledore to be on his side. And despite the man never exactly giving him clear insights at least the headmaster would not keep him completely in the dark. This was what Harry kept repeating to himself as he sat in front of the... eye-catching character that was Horace Slughorn, and watched him try to pretend to not look at his scar. The man looked like he was still sweating through his clothes after the effort it took him to make it look like his house had been ravaged by a raging drunk hippogryph, and while Harry could not help but be impressed by the magical skill this man clearly had, he was still stumped on why exactly it was so important for Dumbledore to bring him to recruit one of his apparent older friends. Sure, this gave a quite exclusive look into the personal life of Dumbledore, as Harry was sure he never met one of his friends before, but yeah what the bloody hell was he supposed to do?

“—your mother.”

Oh shit, yes Slughorn had started talking wasn’t he? And he was staring with reluctant, barely-hidden awe at Harry’s eyes. Ah, so he knew his parents, did he? Harry forced a small smile on his face and looked at the old man.

“You knew my parents, sir?”

Slughorn seemed to preen a bit at that and went to wipe a bit of imaginary dust from his robes. “Quite well yes, I was teaching at Hogwarts when they were students, you see. Retired right after you were born, as a matter of fact. A professor wasn’t supposed to have favorites as you know but I couldn’t help but favor her, your mother, I mean.” He had added after Harry’s inquisitive look. 

Harry’s eyebrows rose a bit in wonder as he looked over the pudgy, sweaty, and red-faced man, noting the complete night and day difference between him and someone like Fake Moody or Snape. 

Perhaps taking Harry’s raised eyebrows as a sign of curiosity, Slughorn continued on, a clear intonation of pride in his voice.“Yes, your mother was extraordinary. She was one of my best students, and I always wished she had been under my house in Slytherin. Although the way she would scream and berate many students, including your father, showed why she belonged in Gryffindor I suppose.” Slughorn must have seen the slight wince at the mention of Slytherin because he added. “You must not reproach me my house, Harry. You are a Gryffindor I presume? Yes, generally families all get sorted in the same house. Although there are exceptions, like Sirius Black. I’m sure you have heard of him, his death was announced a few weeks ago.” 

Harry felt his throat tighten and had to take a shaky exhale. at the mention of his godfather. The pain of losing Sirius had gone from a raw fresh wound that hurt for every second to an old numb ache that flared every time he thought of him.

“He was close friends with your father, both of them brilliant students, of course. At the time I had been very disappointed I didn’t get him in my house, I had almost all the Blacks including his little brother Regulus. Your mother however remained one my greatest losses and to this day I grieve both for the formidable witch she was and the spectacular witch and woman she could’ve become.” 

Harry nodded a bit mutely as he reconsidered his first impression of the man. His voice had started shaking a bit at the end and somewhat showed his sincerity. He was not like Fudge, one of those who spoke of his parents like they were some type of urban legend, in a sort of impersonal awe that was more due to them dying at the hand of Voldemort than anything else. However, the way he talked about students being sorted in his house, made Harry think of him as an avid collector mourning the loss of an extremely valuable treasure in some type of auction.

“I...I don’t know much about my parents’ time in Hogwarts, especially not my mother.” 

How much more did he not know about his parents? His glimpse at the person his father had been at fifteen had sure been a cold slap in the face and showed him how truly little he knew about his parents, apart from the little snippets he had gotten from Remus and Sirius... But before he could dwell more on that, Slughorn let out a small laugh and stood up, heading for a counter full of framed pictures.

“She was extraordinary, my boy. Simply extraordinary. You would not think she was anything but a pureblood. In fact, I could hardly believe she was a muggle-born.” 

“One of my best friends is a muggle-born witch and she’s the most brilliant in our year.” Harry couldn’t help but reply a bit curtly at the gauche comment about blood status. 

Slughorn seemed to read into his tone and turned to Harry with wide and appeasing eyes. “No, no no! Do not think me prejudiced. I did not mean anything by it. In fact, so many of my favorite students were half-bloods and muggle-borns. You see, one of the most brilliant wizards I had ever taught was believed to be a muggle-born Slytherin, can you believe that?” Slughorn seemed to have been pleasantly reminiscing before something dawned on him and almost made him jump out of his skin. His face paled and he took a seat on one of his many comfortable chairs.

“Are you all right sir?” Harry asked, wondering if the man was feeling pain from one of the many woes and aches he had mentioned to Dumbledore when he had first transfigured back from being a chair.

Slughorn nodded dismissively and pointed to the several pictures on the mantle and continued in a much more subdued voice. “All old students of mine, take a look, you might find several big names that will astound you. I believe I have one of your mother’s in one of my soirees she attended as a seventh-year student.” 

Harry was now more enthused to look at the numerous pictures presented on the counter and turned his back to the old retired professor. Taking a cursory glance, his eyes landed on a young man in dress robes who looked a lot like Sirius and he felt that now-familiar pain again. Before he could look at the picture properly, there was a loud thud and a groan. Harry didn't think, he turned around wand in hand, ready to stun whoever this was only to find what looked like a young man in Slytherin robes struggling off the ground. He looked up at Slughorn to wonder if he knew of this wizard, but the man was all but frozen in fear. Hand trying but failing to reach for his wand. 

“Professor Slughorn? What is going on? What happened to me?” the young man asked in a voice that rang warning bells in Harry’s head. A voice that he had never forgotten since that fateful night more than three years ago that almost cost him his arm and Ron his little sister Ginny. 

But no it was impossible, wasn’t it? The diary had been destroyed and Dumbledore had kept it with him. Could it be that there was something else Voldemort had used? Another diary? Harry quickly dismissed his musings as the young man in front groaned again and popped his back in a way that spoke of a very corporal body. What the actual fuck. There he was getting up on his feet: pale, tall, black-haired, and unfairly handsome — Tom fucking Riddle.

Just as Harry was about to cast a Stupefy, ministry, and trace be damned, there were sounds of rushed footsteps and Dumbledore appeared in all his glory, wand at the ready and eyes wary and tense until they fell on what could only be Voldemort’s teenage body and his grip tightened while his eyes went colder. Harry found him so intimidating, not even the muggle magazine about knitting that was stuck to his shoe took away from his presence. 

“Tom, what a pleasant surprise.” Harry had only just heard Dumbledore speak in that tone a couple of months ago in the ministry as he had faced off against Voldemort in the ministry. 

“Professor Dumbledore? But you look so much older? and so does Professor Slughorn? Sir, what year is it?.”

Slughorn had finally managed to take his wand out and point it at Tom, making the apparent teenage Voldemort surrounded on all sides by armed and hostile wizards. Riddle seemed to realise this as well when he looked around himself and made an aborted move to where his wand must be, and ended up twitching his fingers. A single bead of sweat made its way down the side of his face.

“I suppose time travel would be a logical way of looking at things. But of course, no time turner is capable of taking trips further than a few hours behind, and there is no trace of a time turner with you now is there? So tell me, Tom, how did you get here? Horace has anti-apparition wards set up, for you to suddenly pop here... What was it? A portkey? And what manner of magic did you do to yourself?” Dumbledore’s voice was hard and cold and Harry couldn’t help yet again but see the man that had managed to drive Voldemort away at the ministry. Managed to keep him away from Hogwarts during the first war, and never got him to take him on directly.

Riddle seemed to feel the intimidating aura from Dumbledore and Harry was sure, taking the full brunt of Dumbledore’s intense gaze must have been frightening, even to a murderer like teen Voldemort. 

“I-I have no clue. I realize I’m a danger because of the implausibility of my being here. But Professor Dumbledore, you can check yourself, I have no idea what is happening.” Riddle moved to face Dumbledore fully and turned his back to Harry, in a somewhat dismissive manner that irked him. He was clearly considered the least of Riddle’s worries and was ignored completely. 

Dumbledore raised a brow and smiled in a manner more sinister than his usual grandfatherly one. “Asking me to check myself and looking me straight in the eyes, Tom? If I didn’t know you any better I would think you were asking me to use Legilimency on you.” 

Voldemort willingly letting someone use Legilimency on them? It was definitely a trap. Harry said so immediately and was answered by a snort from Riddle that felt too much out of place from someone who was supposed to have no nose in fifty years. “Of course, because I, a mere fifth-year student who just finished the last of his O.W.L exams, can somehow manage to trap the older version of my transfiguration professor who is rumored to be on par with Grindelwald. I don’t know who you are, but you’re not the most brilliant thinker, are you? A Gryffindor most likely since what I've caught of your features and hair clearly makes you a Potter.” 

Harry spluttered angrily and almost sent the obnoxious arrogant git a stinging hex right at the arse (since his pretty smarmy mouth was facing away) when it dawned on him that Tom Riddle was being openly obnoxious. Something Harry was sure only came out in secret and definitely not in front of Hogwarts professors if the polite and demure way Riddle had spoken to Dumbledore in the diary was any indicator. Weird.

Dumbledore and Slughorn seemed to think so as well, as the former adopted a pensive look and the latter’s eyes widened in disbelief. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat “You make a point Tom, however, if I were you I would not antagonise the person who has a wand aimed right at my behind, I would assume stinging hexes on the arse are not a pleasant experience.” Dumbledore shot Harry a quick smile and wink, and Harry felt himself relax minutely. Riddle shrugged and threw an apologetic smile at Harry that looked more patronizing than anything then turned to Dumbledore. 

“If you are sure then Tom. Legilimens.” Dumbledore pointed his wand straight at Riddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasp! Not legilimency! Also Surprise surprise Tom Riddle is in the house (literally). Okay so moving on from that messy attempt at dad humor, I hope you have liked what I've written so far. This fic idea came to me as I was looking for Tom traveling to the future fics and did not find that many, so my solution? Write my own version. This fic will hopefully span from the Hbp to the DH and will be following a basic outline of canon while of course diverging accordingly because of the huge glaring presence of one baby-faced Voldy. I will try my hardest to keep everyone as in character as I can, and I would try to explain if I do veer a bit into ooc territory. This fic is unbeta'd and I'm not a native English speaker so there might be mistakes, please mention any you find in the comments and or/reach out to me on my Tumblr @princegayming either for anon asks or if you're interested in beta'ing. 
> 
> My upload schedule might be all over the place but comments and Kudos are more likely than not going to help motivate me to write faster and better so please leave plenty of comments and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and hope my long ass notes didn't scare you off lol. Have a great one!


	2. Alternate Timelines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore suspects, Slughorn whimpers, and Harry just wants to hex this baby faced Voldemort, is that too much to ask for. Of course, it is, the universe hates Harry so much it threw another Riddle at him.

Slughorn looked apprehensive but still held a wand aimed at Riddle even if some type of wonder was not completely hidden from his face. How the man was a Slytherin, Harry could not tell. Weren’t they supposed to have control over their emotions? Then again looking at someone like Malfoy or his two goonies, it wasn’t that implausible. 

Still somewhat nonplussed, Harry decided to focus back on the situation and started considering—in what was a very Weasley manner of thinking—tying Riddle’s shoelaces together to stop any sudden movements. Imagining the look of total affront the pompous asshole would have if he fell down as he tried to run because his shoelaces were tied, made him let out a snort that was met with inquisitive eyes from Slughorn and complete ignorance from Dumbledore and Riddle. In fact, the two seemed to have finished their session of legilimency. Harry was annoyed to note that apart from a small twitch of his fingers, Riddle was not nearly as affected by having his memories literally pulled out of him like Harry had been whenever Snape aggressively pushed into his mind. It was safe to say everything about Tom Riddle annoyed Harry and he didn’t understand why the tosser wasn’t stunned and handed over to the ministry yet. Past Riddle or not, the monster in Voldemort was present since he had opened the chamber of secrets, and this version of him who claimed he had just passed his O.W.Ls had most likely killed Myrtle already.

“Fascinating, absolutely fascinating…” Dumbledore mused out loud as his eyes focused a bit more and zeroed on in Tom considerably. 

“Albus?” Slughorn asked with a worried tone. Harry was not feeling much different, what exactly did Dumbledore see in that fucked up mind for him to mutter about anything fascinating. 

“Then all it took was that act of kindness? Nature and Nurture, of course, of course... Absolutely terrifying what a few actions can change.” Dumbledore seemed completely lost in his thoughts, and for one absolutely terrifying moment, Harry thought this young Voldemort had done something to him. But before he started throwing hexes, Dumbledore cleared his throat and looked down the few inches between him and Riddle and Harry thought he saw what looked like tears gleaming on Dumbledore’s eyes but it was surely a trick of the light, right? Eyes still gleaming, Dumbledore smiled at Riddle with much more sincerity than before and Harry almost lost his mind. What in Merlin’s fucking saggy balls was going on?

“So this is the young man you could’ve been had you been shown love and care at a young age, Tom? I have to say you have to forgive an old man his emotions but to know that somewhere along the line I had not… It does not matter, you are very different from the Tom Riddle in this timeline, or would the better term be dimension according to the muggles?” 

Dumbledore seemed to make a move to rub at his chin with his injured hand and winced in pain before bringing it down. 

“No matter." he finally concluded before looking away from Riddle. "Horace, Harry, this young man is not dangerous there is no need to keep your wands aimed at him.”

Harry was pretty sure his eyes were popping out of his head and Slughorn let out an affronted harrumph that made him sound like an indignant hippopotamus. At this rate, Slughorn was going to be compared to a whole zoo in Harry’s mind. 

“Professor, I’m sorry but, what? He’s Voldemort, different dimension or not he is still a murderer in the making.”

Slughorn had whimpered a bit at the mention of Voldemort’s name but still nodded vehemently “I agree with young Mr. Potter, I don’t know what exactly you have seen but you cannot expect me to lower my wand when one of the most frightening…” 

Dumbledore raised his hand and Slughorn’s sentence was cut short with an annoyed huff. “I understand you both, especially you Horace dear friend. However, this version of Tom Riddle has not shown any interest and does not appear to give much thought to the magic he had asked you about that night in your office.” Slughorn seemed to be confused at first before his eyes widened and finally looked at Riddle. Harry's eyes followed the meaningful exchange back to Riddle who was now standing to the side keeping an eye on all three of them. Riddle gave Slughorn a small demure smile and Slughorn looked on the verge of tears, or his watery eyes were so emotional they looked teary, Harry couldn’t clearly tell. What the bloody hell was up with this Riddle? Was he some type of tear gas bomb for older wizards? Dumbledore and Slughorn both looked at him like he was a divine revelation. Well, good thing Harry wasn’t religious, then. He turned an expectant look at Dumbledore because whatever he had explained to Slughorn had done nothing to ease his own angry and suspicious thoughts.

“He never opened the Chamber Harry, and he had no plans of doing so despite discovering it in his fourth year.” Harry frowned at this and looked at Riddle who was looking back at Harry contemplatively as if reevaluating his importance now that he saw how much Dumbledore was telling him. Harry was suddenly taken by a very childish urge to mock Riddle, and he did so by smirking slightly at him.

_Fucking suck on that you wanker._

“Professor, I trust your judgment, but are you sure he didn’t do anything to you? I refuse to believe there is a well-adjusted version of Tom Riddle that isn’t on some levels evil.” Harry pointed at Riddle as if to say, no way is this arse not evil, look at his evil handsome face. So fucking evil.

Dumbledore nodded understandably and a bit knowingly at Harry “Do not worry, this old man’s reflexes might not be as they used to be, but when it comes to matters of the mind, especially Legilimency, there are very few who can hold a candle to me. And while a very talented young man like Mr. Riddle could hide some of his memories from my intrusion,” Only Riddle’s eyes betrayed his surprise at Dumbledore having noticed his duplicity, and Harry felt viciously vindicated. He was about to do something equally as childish as before and shout an accusing “AHA” but Dumbledore continued on “All the memories I was able to see and all the emotions I could feel were genuine and assured me that young Tom here is not a Voldemort-in-the-making. It is my opinion, however, that he is not the perfect student and person he pretends to be. Be that as it may, big aspirations amongst other things are hardly something to condemn someone over.”

Harry stared dubiously at Dumbledore and then at Riddle who still seemed like he had eaten a very sour lemon from the way Dumbledore seemed to read him so easily and was so readily divulging what he discovered inside his mind.

“You see Harry, this version of Tom Riddle is proud of his muggle side,” Harry’s mouth dropped and Slughorn started coughing, and was barely spared a glance by everyone else in the room. “He is proud of being the only heir to both the very rich muggle family Riddle and the illustrious magical family of Slytherin. He was also proud of using potions to help make even more money for his family and he was especially proud of the Special Awards for Service to the School he had received after turning over a young Hubeus Hagrid for harboring an acromantula that had almost killed some Gryffindor Students.”

Harry threw a nasty look at Riddle at that as he remembered the way Diary Riddle, who he was supposed to believe was different from this Riddle, had manipulated him into questioning the innocence of one of the first friends he had ever made. “Of course you’re still enough on an arse to snitch on a third-year student who was just taking care of a pet. Did you need the attention so badly you were okay with having someone who already had it rough for being half-giant expelled?” he snarled at Riddle. 

Riddle raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, which again, he was supposed to be from the 1940s, why in Merlin’s name did he look so much like one of those 80s teenage heartthrobs Harry had seen Mrs. Figg secretly fawn over?

“A pet? He was a keeping an XXXXX class magical creature which I’m not sure you’re aware is considered by the Ministry to be a _known wizard killer and impossible to train or domesticate_. So yes, I did report him to Headmaster Dippet on account of the fact that a thirteen years old was keeping a pet that despite listening to him for some reason, had still managed to almost kill a group of older Gryffindors who were bullying him.” came Riddle’s condescending reply.

Harry couldn't help but cry out, protective of his own house “What? No way! Gryffindors don’t bully each other, they-” a memory of his father and his friends bullying Snape abruptly crossed his mind and he wondered if their arrogance and mean spirited pranks extended to younger Gryffindors as well. “They bully younger Slytherins usually, yes.” Riddle finished with a mocking nod of the head “But in Hagrid’s case as you so rightfully mentioned, him being half-giant meant he rarely had his peers’ approval. And while his size usually drove off bullies from his own year or those younger, seventh-year Gryffindors had enough magical knowledge and arrogance as well as pureblood disdain of magical creatures to attack him.” 

Harry was about to counter and looked at Dumbledore for help but the headmaster just shook his head.

“Tom is telling the truth, Harry, students at Hogwarts can be cruel and ruthless regardless of house loyalties. However, we are digressing. I am sure this is hard for you Harry and understandably so, but this version of Tom Riddle is not the enemy, in fact, he might just prove extremely helpful in the fight against Voldemort.”

Harry chewed on the side of his cheek trying to think rationally about this whole ordeal and he couldn’t help but agree. Riddle had been powerful enough at sixteen to create potent magic like the diary that was wreaking havoc fifty years in the future, but would this apparently harmless version of him even be as powerful? “How can we be sure he’s as talented as the one from our timeline or whatever, Sir?” he added petulantly.

Dumbledore smiled faintly and Riddle rolled his eyes. “From what I have seen, Tom’s thirst for knowledge and skill with magic is just as strong. If anything, his lack of obsession with some of the darker branches of magic allowed him to delve more into spell creation, isn’t that right Tom? You seemed very proud of that memory you pushed to the forefront.” 

Tom nodded with a bit of an arrogant flair that grated heavily on Harry’s nerves. “Yes, I have, I would be happy to discuss more with you, professor. You as well professor Slughorn. Your knowledge and guidance helped me greatly in my own time.” Riddle threw Slughorn a shy yet somehow charming smile that seemed to work wonders in defrosting the rest of Slughorn’s residual hesitancy. The retired Hogwarts professor seemed to puff with pride before returning somewhat shakily Riddle’s smile. “Of course, my boy. If Albus is vouching for you, then I will also be making a leap of faith on your behalf my dear Tom, you always had the potential to be the greatest, and in this timeline, you did achieve greatness however maliciously and ruthlessly.” 

“I am afraid I will not be able to give you much of my time, Tom. I will be keeping an eye on you, however, as I’m sure you understand. Which of course means you will be joining us at Hogwarts as a sixth year, right alongside Harry.” Dumbledore said the last bit with an exaggerated emphasis that Harry was sure was meant to entice Slughorn. “We will have to go now Tom, Harry. Thank you for your hospitality Horace and what a shame you have chosen to refuse the job offer.” 

Harry saw Riddle shoot an uneasy glance at Slughorn. A look Harry was convinced was as fake as Aunt Petunia’s pleasantries. “That is a shame, professor. It was really nice seeing a familiar face in such an unusual and dire situation.” Riddle gave a not very subtle look at Harry who almost rolled his eyes but could read the room well enough. “I have to agree sir, I was looking forward to hearing more about my mother, especially in these dangerous unpredictable times. But at least professor Dumbledore is at Hogwarts which makes it the safest place to be since Voldemort never truly went against him.” Harry knew he was laying it on thick, but if Riddle thought he was going to be the one achieving what Dumbledore had brought Harry for, he was sadly mistaken.

Slughorn wrung his hands together for a moment looking between the three visitors that were all huddled around the exit of his house and finally threw his hands up. “All right, all right! You win Albus. I will take my job back, but I’m expecting a raise.” he added the last bit with a pointed finger at Dumbledore who chuckled lightly and turned around “Good to hear, old friend.”

“Goodbye Professor and see you on the Hogwarts Express,” Riddle said before following Dumbledore. Slughorn nodded slightly seeming to still be in a state of uncertainty when it came to dealing with this version of Riddle. Something Harry could relate quite well. “Goodbye, sir,” he added with a small nod.

Following Riddle and Dumbledore out into the street, Harry kept a wary eye on the other teen, as a large part of him was not over his suspicions.

“Let us walk back to the point we apparated from Harry, I will be talking with you privately once we reach the Burrow so please bear with me.” Harry nodded and started walking alongside the other two. 

The night was just as silent and calming as before even though Harry could hardly get himself to get rid of the tension that made his shoulders taut ever since he heard Riddle’s voice. 

“So I am assuming Voldemort is my future self in this timeline yes?” Riddle’s calm voice broke the tentative silence and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. Riddle saw the look and scoffed “I played with anagrams when I was bored during the summer before my second year and that had been one of my more successful attempts at shuffling my full name’s letters around. I thought it was wildly smart at that age, and amusing considering its french meaning.” his mouth was curved in a small smile that looked genuine and foreign on his face.

“How so?” came Dumbledore’s ostensibly innocent inquiry, but Harry was sure the headmaster was intrigued somewhat. It dawned on Harry then, this was one of the advantages Dumbledore had meant when talking about how helpful this Riddle could be. Getting an insight into Tom Riddle’s life and even way of thinking.

“Well, it can be translated to "theft of death", which was somewhat ironic considering my father had jokingly complained I stole my grandmother’s death when my magic accidentally helped her land on sofa cushions instead of her own head. I was ten then, and what my father had forgotten was that she probably wouldn’t have been running down the stairs at her age if I hadn’t just zapped her with my magic for slapping me on the back of the head.” Riddle finished with a shrug.

“I see.” was all Dumbledore replied. 

“I was highly adept at accidental magic as a child as I had quickly learned to bend it to my will. I’m assuming from the look on your face, Voldemort was as well.” at Dumbledore’s nod, Riddle seemed to get a certain resolve to his eyes. “What exactly is Voldemort’s goal? Was he the one who defeated Grindelwald? And what of the muggle world war?”

Dumbledore turned somber “I was the one who defeated Gellert in a duel in 1945, the same year the muggle war ended.” Harry saw Riddle’s eyes widen comically before he got a hold of himself, and almost laughed at how out of place the look of complete bewilderment looked on Riddle’s face, softening his features considerably. 

“I’m sure you will want to find out more about both events by doing your own research. As for Voldemort, I believe the Dark Lord’s goal is to rule magical Britain, assert dominance over muggles, and most recently defeat all his opposition.” Riddle’s face turned sour as he asked bemusedly “A Dark Lord? Like Grindelwald? How unexpected. I always imagined all versions of myself would strive to be the minister of magic.” Riddle mused out loud and Harry snorted. Riddle as the ministry of magic, yeah right! Then again Fudge had held the position before Scrimgeour so everything was possible. 

Riddle narrowed his eyes at him and smiled condescendingly in that manner that made Harry’s blood boil with anger and something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Oh, I’m sure you, brave and brash Gryffindor Potter will be signing up to be an Auror right? Only good at following orders and hounding people, just like a reckless dog.”

It was the mention of the reckless dog that made Harry snap and he didn’t even know what happened before he was brandishing his wand at Riddle’s throat. “You… you” he couldn’t even get the words out as the grief and anger and raw pain that followed every mention of Sirius and the acid guilt and grief it churned in his stomach that eventually seemed to squeeze the breath out of him, like a pair of invisible hands. Riddle had his eyebrows raised in a mocking manner and Harry felt the point of a wand press against his sternum. When the hell did Riddle even get his wand out? A hand on his shoulder that he knew was Dumbledore’s made him pause and take a deep breath.

“Do not let him get to you, Harry. And Tom I expect you to act a bit more maturely than this. You both have been egging each other on since Horace’s house and I did not intervene simply because it seemed more like harmless squabbles than anything. I urge you both to never let things escalate. Tom while I have not restricted you in any manner because I have decided to give you a chance, I will not hesitate to impose stricter regulations on your presence here that could affect wand privileges.” Riddle looked about as pleased as Wood when the Quidditch finals had been canceled in his second year, and that image somehow made the anger leave Harry almost immediately. Dumbledore was still on his side, he valued Harry more, something which helped mitigate his anger.

“Yes sir.” 

Dumbledore nodded and let Harry’s shoulder go. “If you want to enroll as a sixth-year you will need to retake your O.W.Ls unless you would rather repeat your fifth year?”

Riddle looked like that would be the absolute worst idea ever “No sir, I would prefer to retake my O.W.Ls. I have the material still fresh in mind.” 

“Good, the earlier we get you to take them the better, we will cite special circumstances for the delay of course. With the return of Voldemort, it would not be a hard story to sell. This brings me to my next point. What will be your story exactly Tom? Your counterpart has managed to cut all ties to his Hogwarts persona, but there are people among the staff who might recognize the charming suave Headboy who helped close the chamber of secrets the first time around.”

Riddle seemed to think on it for a while as the three of them made their way past the church and back to the point where Dumbledore had apparated himself and Harry earlier. 

“I think I will be my own grandson,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at Riddle and Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “If Voldemort has been as thorough as you have mentioned in erasing my presence, sir, then I think it would be easy to say that Tom Riddle apparent muggle-born had settled back in the muggle world after the war, married a nice muggle girl, had my mother who married a muggle herself and here I am.  
My grandfather tutored my mother, who died after giving birth to me and ended up tutoring me as well, before a raid in a muggle village by Voldemort or his followers did my grandparents and father in and I found myself going to Hogwarts as per my grandfather’s last words and found you, professor.” Riddle finished his little improvised story with a proud smirk and Harry had to admit it made quite a bit of sense. 

Although the idea of this world’s Tom Riddle settling down with a muggle wife was so absurd Harry laughed. This, of course, earned him an inquisitive yet somewhat reproachful look from Dumbledore, and the fakest polite smile from Riddle that made him feel like he was being looked down upon yet again. “Sorry, it’s just imagining Voldemort settling with a muggle after the war is so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but imagine him all snake-faced raising a bunch of snake babies.” Harry snorted and Dumbledore let out a small chuckle. Riddle raised a brow and muttered “snake-faced?” but seemed to think better of asking and just shrugged.

“A lot of muggle-borns return to their own society as they find it hard to adapt to the harsh and unfamiliar world of pure-bloods; it is not that ridiculous.” 

“You are absolutely right, Tom. Of course, your coming to see me will explain why you, unlike your mother, took your O.W.Ls as I will want you to enroll as a sixth-year student. It will also hopefully help with my plea for the Weasley’s to take you in for the rest of the summer.” 

Harry felt a mixed sense of panic and anger at that. The Burrow was supposed to be his safe space. Second only to Hogwarts in how much he considered it his home. He was about to protest this decision when Riddle spoke up. “Would it not be better for me to stay in Hogwarts? I would have the opportunity to familiarise myself with the castle so that my knowledge of its corridors and halls does not accidentally contradict my tale of origin.” 

Harry found himself for the first time ever agreeing vehemently with the other teen and nodded at Dumbledore. He had a point. Dumbledore shook his head, “I am afraid that will not be possible Tom, students cannot stay on school grounds in the summer. Nonetheless, you can tell your fellow students that you stayed in a faculty room for a week in Hogwarts after you came to me and before we both went to retrieve Harry.” Riddle nodded sourly and Harry couldn’t help but protest the idea.  
“But sir, we don’t know how dangerous he is. We can’t let him stay with the Weasleys; they don’t deserve to harbor the bloke who could’ve become Voldemort.” Riddle remained impassively staring at a point in the horizon, clearly having come to terms with Dumbledore’s refusal to some degree. The fact he did not put up any fight to be put in Hogwarts which Harry knew from the diary was as much a home for Riddle as it had been for Harry, made him even more suspicious. 

Dumbledore just shook his head and Harry let out a sigh. “I trust you to keep an eye on him, Harry. Tom also knows that he is on a probationary period, meaning any toe out of line will be met by the enforcement of harsh regulations. ” Harry nodded reluctantly but was still not on board with this idea. Riddle with a wand could just as well Imperio the whole house and do whatever he pleased. But what exactly would he do then? Harry was sure if Voldemort found a teenage version of himself that was proud of his muggle heritage, he would not rest until he captured Riddle and tortured him for days before most likely turning him into snake food. Riddle should be smart enough to realise this as well, and if he hadn’t, well Harry smirked triumphantly, he could always make sure to tell him exactly how insane and deadly Voldemort was and how not being on their side meant he was definitely on his own against that raving lunatic's fury. 

“Very well, now Harry, please hold on to my hand.” Dumbledore nodded at his healthy arm and Harry complied before he saw Riddle’s eyes settle for a couple of seconds on the gaudy ring on Dumbledore’s finger. Riddle made for Dumbledore’s other side before the older man shook his head. “I am afraid my injury will not allow for you to hold on as tightly as you should, lest you bring me great pain. Take Harry’s other arm if you please Tom.” Riddle eyed Dumbledore’s decaying arm with barely veiled interest and nodded before moving back to Harry’s side who could not help but throw him an unhappy frown. Riddle smelled like Hogwarts soap and what seemed like vanilla and lavender. Probably some expensive muggle cologne, as this Riddle grew up rich. Resolving himself to bringing the tosser down a notch or three if he started acting like some rich arsehole about the Burrow or in general, Harry barely suppressed a flinch when Riddle roughly took hold of his hand. When Harry glared at him and looked at their joined hands in a look that he hoped conveyed clearly his message of _What the hell, grab my sleeve instead you git_ Riddle just shrugged and dove closer to Harry, whispering in his ear. For some reason, this made the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end while something unfamiliar and unpleasant churned in his stomach, “I didn’t want to risk losing my grip considering how flimsy and old your frayed clothes look.” Harry tried to dislodge his hand, but Riddle’s slightly bigger one had his in a tight vice-like grip.  
“All right, boys hang on tight,” Dumbledore said and before Harry could say anything he felt himself getting squeezed down what felt like a garden hose and could hardly think of anything but when this would be over. When the pressure finally subsided and he could properly breathe again, he quickly let go of Riddle’s strongly gripping hand and looked on at the misshapen house he loved so much. Despite how absolutely insane this whole night had been, Harry could not help but feel a deep sense of relief and appeasement: Ron lived in this house, as well as one of the best cooks in the world: Mrs. Weasley.

“If it is all right with you Harry, I would like to talk to you in private. Over there perhaps?” Dumbledore pointed to a small shed as they all stepped into the Weasley’s property. Harry nodded and earned himself a small smile. “Tom, please wait for us out here. Harry and I have some private musings to go over.” Riddle acquiesced quickly and continued to stare ahead, seemingly regarding the Burrow meticulously as if wondering if the design was premeditated or accidental. “Oh and I suppose you should change out of your Slytherin robes. Oh dear, there is also the problem of all your belongings isn't there?” 

“I have money with me, Professor. I can easily replace and buy what I need. I can also maintain the business of tutoring and potion making I had started in Hogwarts to earn more if the need arises.” came Riddle’s calm reply. Dumbledore nodded, and was that a hint of pride Harry could see in his smile? “Working for your money, Tom? You really are nothing alike.” The headmaster shook his head bemusedly and went for the shed. Harry narrowed his eyes at Riddle’s smug content smile and his patronising little wave and followed behind the much older man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there we go, another chapter not even twelve hours after the first one, but I couldn't wait. So yeah lots of revelations in this one. I would like to mention that the translation of Voldemort I went with, was something I myself believed was the meaning of it as a native french speaker. Vol can mean both theft and flight so yeah 12-year-old me was like "oh definitely theft of death because Voldemort is evading death with Horcruxes I'm so smart!!1!!" then jk was like uh no I meant "flight of death" but well I'm sure a lot of us kinda take a lot of what she says with a grain salt considering her recent mess. 
> 
> ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy the chapter. Harry feeling those embers of physical attraction but not knowing what the fuck they are seems very on-brand for me, especially if they're for a guy, giving us very baby bi chaotic energy as he should. The next chapter will also be from Harry's POV and I am halfway done with that but the one after that I believe will be the first Riddle chapter and boy is that gonna be interesting. So stay tuned!


	3. Burrow Your Head Under The Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important decisions are made in small spider-infested gardening sheds. A sprinkle of human transfiguration gets thrown into the mix and things are looking more complex than ever. Harry has tasty onion soup, though, so all is well in the world for now.

As soon as Dumbledore got into the old shed he waved his wand downwards and Harry felt like he had entered a soundless bubble. Probably something to stop Riddle from eavesdropping he thought with no little amount of satisfaction: Dumbledore really did not trust Riddle as much as he made it out to the other teen. He watched as Dumbledore pointed his wand upwards and illuminated the dark small space they had found themselves in before Harry closed the door of the shed. It really was incredulous how he was about to have a private conversation with his headmaster in a gardening shed. A shed he was positive was a spider’s nest if the alarming amount of spider nets inside was any indication. Snapping himself out his musings at Dumbledore’s small cough, Harry geared himself up.

“Sir, I don’t trust him at all. He is an unknown version of Voldemort. I really tried to convince myself that he is harmless, considering the position of weakness he is in right now. I mean I’m sure he’s smart enough to realize how Voldemort would want to torture and kill him the moment he finds out about him. Yet, it doesn’t change the fact that he is still Tom Riddle and he's still very dangerous and unpredictable.”

Dumbledore’s nod was solemn before his face turned into a more open smile “You are always so astute Harry, and your precaution and wariness will prove to be useful in order to help turn Tom’s sudden unexplainable presence to our advantage. I am so very proud of you. Both for the manner with which you kept your wits in this situation as well as for how you handled everything after the ordeal at the ministry. Forgive me for saying this, Harry, but I believe Sirius would have been proud of you as well. How cruel fate is, for separating you from your godfather after so little time spent together.”

Harry swallowed with difficulty, his voice lost and his eyes stinging. He found himself staring at a spider making its way down Dumbledore’s hat and started in a shaky voice. “It’s just… he won’t ever be writing to me again.” _I won’t have anyone back outside Hogwarts, no one to worry about me like a parent, nothing to look forward to as the owls deliver letters in the morning_ he couldn’t finish out loud. Tears stung his eyes but he quickly batted them away. “Closing in on myself, is not the answer, though” he continued before Dumbledore could say anything. “I know Sirius wouldn’t have wanted me to be moping about. Life is short, I mean just look at what happened to Emmeline Vance or even Mrs. Bones this summer. Wallowing in self-pity won’t do anything for me or for the people I love and want to protect. None of us will know true peace until he is defeated.” 

Dumbledore smiled proudly Harry felt his resolve hardening. “Which is why I get the importance of making good use of Riddle. As an unknown chess piece to Voldemort, he could prove to be very helpful in the long game. But sir, even if he isn’t a Dark Lord in the making, is he really as innocent or light as he pretends to be? Because I don’t think so.”

“Well put, Harry. I see young Mr. Weasley’s love for Magical Chess has left its mark on you.” Harry felt the rise of an embarrassed blush on his face that he silently willed down. He knew about chess before Ron, thank you very much. “You are also right in your assumption, Tom is not as innocent or as helpful as he is making himself out to be. He is undoubtedly just as selfish and self-involved as Voldemort. Nonetheless, he is—and this is but conjecture on my part—different from Voldemort in that he is not beset with the intense inferiority complex stemming from a rough childhood amongst muggles.” 

“I also believe this version of Tom came into Hogwarts knowing he was the heir of Slytherin and was thus even less affected by the toxicity of the Slytherin house. There is far less festering anger in this version of Tom Riddle than the one we know. This means the fake persona he broadcasts is even more polished and thought out.” 

Harry frowned at this, remembering his snarky response in front of Dumbledore and Slughorn as well as his many taunts. He said so to the headmaster, who chuckled.

“Do you not think Harry, that that could be a part of his facade as well? He was in an unknown situation with two somewhat known variants, and a third unknown young man who had a wand pointed at his back. He was trying to get a read on you, and your importance and position in the power hierarchy. He initially dismissed you when he fully turned his back to you but started reconsidering when he saw how much I was sharing with you.” Harry nodded, feeling if anything that his unease had intensified. If Riddle was capable of so much, he couldn’t imagine how easy it would be for him to manipulate and hurt everyone staying in the Burrow. Harry was confident he could take him on in a duel but Riddle was underhanded and knew much more spells than him so he would be at a disadvantage eventually. 

Harry looked back sharply at Dumbledore who had been regarding him carefully. “I can see your unease with this situation has not lightened and rightfully so. Tom is adept at many forms of magic and him living under the roof of a magical family would mean that the trace will not be able to detect him practicing any magic. That is if the trace will even work on him given he is not from this timeline.” 

“What do you mean the trace would not detect him? I thought all underage wizards had it?”

Dumbledore hummed “As far as I am concerned, the matter of the trace is quite inconsistent Harry. I will try to explain to the best of my abilities. You see as long as magic is done in a wizarding home the ministry would not be able to take notice of it, yet were there to be any magic done near an underage wizard in a known muggle home or area the blame would befall the underage wizard.”

Harry was affronted, the memory of the letter he had gotten in his second year for infraction of the rules because of Dobby’s levitation charm feeling even more like injustice than before. “What but that’s unfair! Does this mean some of the Hogwarts students get to keep practicing magic even in the summer and holidays or even before going to Hogwarts?” 

“I am afraid that is the case, yes. You see, the ministry trusts parents to keep an eye on their children and regulate their use of magic. Highly unfair to muggle-borns or those living with muggle relatives as you have so readily mentioned.” 

Harry felt his anger and irritation at the unfairness and incompetence of the ministry flare up again, the embers still fresh from the pain and defamation Fudge and his pet toad Umbridge had inflicted on him for a whole year. 

“How about he spends this night in the Burrow then we will discuss his living arrangements, would that be amenable to you Harry?.” Dumbledore asked snapping Harry from his rising anger. 

“We will need to find somewhere safe for him to stay, however.”

Harry thought about it for a minute before a tentative solution dawned on him. “What about 12 Grimmauld Place? Maybe we could use it?” Harry knew Sirius hated that house and that having to stay cooped up in his childhood home full of unpleasant memories had made him completely miserable. He hoped that Sirius would find some sense of humour wherever he was now in the fact that the house that had bored and brought him pain will be used to basically detain a young Voldemort. Also, if the Doxy infestation was back and one of those pests bit Riddle, some boggart managed to scare the hell out of him or Kreacher kept on harassing him every day, well that would be splendid as far as Harry was concerned. 

Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to have read some of Harry’s train of thought as they twinkled knowingly. “It is your house, Harry, what you choose to do with it, or in this case who to invite into it is up to you. I do believe that is a sound suggestion and will be bringing this up tomorrow with Tom as I accompany him to take his O.W.L exams.

Harry felt a knot he hadn’t known was tied in his stomach loosened slightly. This Riddle was still manipulative and sly but Dumbledore had figured so much of him already which meant he could trust in the headmaster’s judgment. Just as Dumbledore trusted in his judgment and took his unease seriously. Spending time away from Riddle was also such an enticing prospect he let himself relax even more. 

“Does this put your mind at ease slightly Harry?” at his nod, Dumbledore smiled. “Now I believe I will be discussing the subjects I had initially planned on breaching with you. You are welcome to ask any questions you wish as well.”

* * *

The talk with the headmaster had been enlightening, to say the least. Finding out he was going to be receiving private lessons from Dumbledore himself was not something he had ever dreamed of this meant possibly gaining magical knowledge not many people were privy to it but also no more private lessons from Snape’s hateful arse. So yes, Harry was content for the most part. The year was gearing up to be quite interesting and complex. Speaking of the complex part, the current bane of his existence was awaiting for them patiently, humming a tune Harry was unfamiliar with and twirling his wand perfectly with the music. Harry took a deep breath and told himself that this was just part of Riddle’s very planned out realistic facade so his brain didn’t shortcircuit thinking about Voldemort singing early 20th century tunes as he tortured innocent people. 

“Ah, Professor, Potter. Good to see your musings went over all right. I think you should know that a tall and lanky redhead wizard apparated here about two minutes ago and a witch—by the name of Tonks I believe—left the house right after.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “I had thought Arthur would have been back from work by now. An oversight on my part, I'm afraid. How did you manage not to get seen by them, Tom?”

Riddle twirled his wand and smiled that signature demure smile of his that looked shy yet somehow condescending. “Disillusionment charm, sir. I hope that’s okay with you?” 

Dumbledore regarded him with heavy eyes before he sighed. “Of course, and considering your talent it wouldn’t be wrong to assume that your disillusionment charm fooled an Auror and a ministry official.”

Riddle shook his head “I’m sure the night helped as well.”

“False modesty does not become you, Tom. Although, I am glad you acted so quickly on your feet. The situation could have escalated into quite an incautious incident. I didn’t give you explicit permission to use your wand freely but I suppose I also didn’t clearly prohibit it. I would however ask you to wait until you are back in Hogwarts before you use magic as you are still underage.” 

Riddle acquiesced quite easily and Dumbledore hummed, turned around, and started for the Burrow’s back entrance, motioning for Harry and Riddle to follow him, but Riddle wasn’t finished. 

“Sir?” he asked, prompting Dumbledore to regard him with patience Harry was not sharing. “I know we have decided on the cover story that I am my own grandson, but I believe I still look too much like myself. Could I have your permission to transfigure a few of my features? Nothing too big.”

Harry frowned at him, noting Riddle’s clear 1940s slicked wavy hair and the old-fashioned muggle clothes he was wearing now that he had taken off his Slytherin robes. Harry found himself reluctantly agreeing with the other teen again. Close family resemblance was not uncommon, but Harry himself who was always compared to his father had a slightly different nose and thicker eyebrows, as well as of course, his mother’s green eyes. Riddle looking like a carbon copy of his grandfather could very well arouse suspicion, even in Hagrid who although clumsy and hardly able to keep a secret, was not without sharp wit. 

Dumbledore seemed to agree with the suggestion. “You raise a valid point yet again Tom. Although I do not believe you have learned human transfiguration in class considering I usually taught it to my N.E.W.T level students. Another fruit of your extracurricular studies I presume?” Riddle smiled and gave a proud yes that made Harry roll his eyes. Riddle was a real teacher’s pet and a real pain in the arse.

“Well go ahead, I would rather you do this while I am present so I can intervene in the very improbable case of an accident.” Riddle nodded and brandished his wand which caught the light coming from the Burrow and Harry’s eyes zeroed in on the fact that it did not look as light as Voldemort’s yew wand. He looked at Dumbledore who either didn’t seem to notice or was already aware of that fact. “That’s not a yew wand is it?” he asked just as Riddle was about to wave his wand at his hair. The other teen aborted his movement and glared at Harry like he was a very annoying fly that was buzzing around his ear. 

_Yeah well right back at you._

“Obviously it’s not.” Riddle popping the b in a disdainful way that reminded Harry of Snape. “My wand is made of holly. Now are you quite finished or can I carry on?” Harry glared at him and mockingly bowed his head as if to say go on, which made Riddle narrow his eyes and smile at him even more patronisingly. Harry kept an eye on him as he walked closer to Dumbledore. 

“Sir, is it—?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes, it is Harry. Their diverging point started from birth, after all.” 

Harry blinked, his stomach churning at the thought of sharing the exact same wand as this Riddle. Was that even possible? For a wand to choose two different wizards? Would that then mean that he and this Riddle had even more in common than he and Voldemort? And would their wands even be considered the same if they came from the same woods and phoenix but dimensions apart? This was giving him a major headache and Harry found himself wishing once again he had Hermione on speed dial inside his brain. 

“Sir, you told me it was okay to tell Ron and Hermione about what we talked about in the shed, does this mean I can tell them about him as well?” He couldn’t imagine himself being able to lie to his two best friends about something so big and for what was going to be a whole year. Spending every day with them this summer knowing he was lying to them about Voldemort’s nicer double would not sit right with him. His chess matches with Ron would be tainted, his casual conversations with Hermione about everything and nothing as well. Hell, even the Quidditch matches with Ron and Ginny... Merlin’s bloody bollocks! Ginny! Ginny knew about Riddle, in fact, Diary Riddle had made her first year in Hogwarts a living hell, and was almost successful in sucking her life energy whole. 

He did not know if Riddle had ever shared his memories with her as he had done with Harry. What he knew for sure was that the Diary had charmed her and taken advantage of her as she confided in it, but that didn't mean he ever showed himself to her. Maybe she only remembered him from before she lost consciousness in the chamber of secrets and saw him come out, which meant her recollection of him would be foggy at best. He'll have to check this summer, an experience which was not going to be pleasant at all. Harry was sure everybody danced around Ginny's first year in Hogwarts and never directly brought it up in front of her. Guess being the Chosen One meant he had the pleasure of bringing up past trauma to his best friend’s little sister.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir. Ginny! She’s had to deal with him before! What if she recognises him? We can’t just spring this on her! And she won’t keep quiet about something like this. I’m gonna have to tell Ron and Hermione before she blows up. Ginny is fiery and fearless and would make sure he knew just how much she despised him. Sir—”

Dumbledore’s healthy hand landed comfortingly on his shoulder and squeezed for one brief second. “Calm down, Harry. I have thought of that myself. And while I understand Miss Weasley would not be amenable regarding this situation, there is very little we can do as an alternative. If there is indeed a spark of recognition I will have to explain the situation to her. I will reiterate that you do not tell your closest friends about his identity as our advantage will stem from blindsiding Voldemort. I understand you trust both of them explicitly but I am afraid in this matter I am in agreeance with the muggle expression _loose lips sink ships_. ”

Harry frowned at the headmaster. He was never good at keeping things from his two best friends, and for it to be something so big? Bloody hell, Riddle was more pain than he was worth. _Speaking of the devil_ , Harry thought viciously as Riddle started speaking in his pompous posh voice. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear, but how exactly is some teenage witch from the 90s likely to know who I am? Was she somehow in the know of whatever situation made Potter knowledgeable of my true identity?”

The headache that had been forming behind Harry’s eyes was intensifying by the minute and he exacerbated it by doing a sudden double-take at Riddle’s face. How was this possible? The absolute tosser looked even better. His hair was a bit longer and silky smooth as opposed to the slight wave it had before, and cascaded over his brows right above his eyes. Eyes which had gone from light brown to the darkest of browns. His upper lip was a touch thicker and his nose slightly thicker and somehow both those changes fit his face even better. Harry was not sure if the git had somehow conjured a mirror or if he did these changes randomly but he was looking even more handsome than before. What the hell? His clothes also seemed to be an imitation of Harry’s own jeans and shirt, except his were both black and looked tailored perfectly to his frame. _Fucking Slytherins._

“Yes, the situation in question happened early in the summer of 1993 and involved some very dark magic that your counterpart had left. It allowed him to come back as a memory of his teen self and possess young Ginerva Weasley in order to open the chamber of secrets.”

Riddle’s eyes widened at the mention of possession and he seemed to be lost in thought for a while. “I will make sure to steer clear and not exacerbate the situation with her then, professor.” 

With a final nod, Dumbledore quickly stepped to the Burrow back door before knocking three times. The hushed voices that could be heard faintly inside came to an abrupt stop, and there was the sound of a chair being pushed up a bit forcefully.

“Who is this? I will have you know that this house is warded and protected by the ministry.” came Mr. Weasly’s voice sounded harsher than Harry ever heard it before.

“Albus Dumbledore, I have Harry and another guest with me.”

“What was the cause of my stay at the hospital last year?” came Mr. Weasley’s reply. Harry figured the Weasley patriarch was following the ministry protocol and tried not to roll his eyes at Riddle’s inquisitive look. “Arthur is this really necessary?” came Molly Weasely’s recognisable voice sounding weary.

“You were attacked by a magical snake as you were guarding the prophecy under Order business.” Dumbledore had paused a little as if considering Riddle’s presence before he'd answered.

“What is your dearest ambition Arthur?” the headmaster continued.

“Discover how airplanes fly.” was Mr. Weasley’s somewhat embarrassed response. Clearly, his love for anything muggle did not mean he was impervious to feeling embarrassed by his answer to the prestigious Dumbledore. Harry smiled and shook his head. He had missed them dearly. 

The door finally opened and two heads of red hair suddenly appeared in the middle of the door. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes immediately zeroed on Harry and she quickly pulled him inside with a tight hug that warmed his insides as it always did. There was really nothing like a Molly Weasley hug to make you feel safe, protected, and loved. Harry didn’t realise how much he'd missed it.

“Harry dear, how very nice to see you. Albus, you have rattled us, we were just about to go to bed. We weren’t expecting you until much later.” Mrs. Weasley said as she let go of Harry and started inspecting him as if to check if he was eating enough.

“Yes, well the business with Horace was finished quicker than expected.”

“Albus, who is this young man?” Mr. Weasley asked warily and with a healthy dose of suspicion. Harry braced himself, and almost expected for there to be shouts of “Voldemort!” but of course they never came. Riddle, who had adopted an expression of pure innocence mixed with bashfulness (that Harry couldn’t help but half-admire and half-scoff internally at) probably looked about as likely to be a fearsome Dark Lord as a Crup puppy.

Mrs. Weasley definitely thought so if the motherly worried frown she had while looking at Riddle was any indication. 

“Nice to meet you my name is Thomas Jedusor, but I go by Tom,” Riddle said with a subdued voice and a polite bow of the head before Dumbledore could introduce him. And Harry realised the git probably wanted to choose his own fake last name.

“Thomas Jedusor had his family recently murdered by Voldemort’s followers when they attacked a muggle village and found a magical family hidden amongst them. Young Tom was barely able to escape for his life thanks to a desperate act of magic that allowed him to disapparate to Hogsmeade.” Dumbledore continued smoothly taking the interruption in stride.

Mr. Weasley’s wariness had completely vanished and Mrs. Weasley had her hands on mouth muttering about the poor little dear. “He was of course splinched severely and had to be initially taken care of by the owner of the Head’s Hog Inn who contacted me. I allowed Mr. Jedusor here to stay for a while at Hogwarts as he recuperated but as you are aware students are not allowed to stay in the summer.”

“Oh you poor dear, come inside, sit down please.” Riddle who had still been standing outside could do nothing but blink in surprise while Mrs. Weasley grabbed his arm gently and dragged him to the kitchen table. 

“Harry dear, come sit as well. I will warm a bit of onion soup for you both.” 

Mr. Weasley closed the door looking weary and older as if he was tired of all the death. Harry immediately felt guilty, things were horrible enough in the world right now without adding to the Weasley’s the burden of a family murder that did not even happen.

“Mr. Jedusor had been home tutored for all his life and upon asking about his family, he told me about his grandfather who was a student I myself had taught back in the 1930s. His grandfather had been one of the most brilliant students I had ever known, and he was even the one who found whoever first opened the chamber of secrets.”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both looked up sharply at the mention of the chamber of secrets. Clearly, it was a subject that will always weigh heavily on them, considering everything with Ginny.

“So you can imagine my surprise when this young wizard showed me a letter addressed to me from his late grandfather asking me to take care of the boy who had inherited his immense prowess and talent in magic. However, as you know I have not the means nor the time to take care of a growing teenager, however much he keeps insisting he is almost of age.”

The Weasleys exchanged a look and Mr. Weasley tentatively said “Albus, are you suggesting we take him in? You know we would be happy to but with everyone already staying here, and—”

“Arthur! I’m sure we could find a way to—” continued Mrs. Weasley even though her heart did not seem into it.

Dumbledore raised his left healthy hand and interrupted softly “I understand completely, and I was not asking you to house him for the rest of the summer, just for tonight as I have to go discuss several matters with Rufus Scrimgeour. Harry has quite generously offered Grimmauld Place as a temporary home for young Tom, so after I accompany him to take his O.W.L exams I will be taking him to Grimmauld Place.”

“That place? But he is but a child, he can’t be expected to live all alone in that house, Albus. We can manage I am sure. If Harry sleeps in Ron’s room and Tom takes the twins…”

“I don’t want to impose, Madame. I will be glad to stay in the place Harry has so graciously offered me. I really appreciate you trying to accommodate me and please don’t think me rude, but I…” Riddle’s eyes teared up a bit and Harry had to bite his tongue not to scream bloody murder at how manipulative he was. Mrs. Weasley noticed his tears and quickly pulled a napkin and started patting his hand comfortingly. “I need time to grieve for my family properly. My grandfather always said 'pride comes before the fall' but I do not want anyone to see me completely fall apart. It has been hard enough keeping it together these past days.” Riddle finished his sad little tale with a single tear that fell out of his dark brown eyes. Harry cursed at how his heart clenched at the sight. The tosser was acting.

Then again this Riddle had a father he seemed close to and he was taken away from everything he was familiar with and spit out fifty years in the future with a version of himself that was a mentally deranged psychopathic killer. Maybe Harry could cut him a little bit of slack. He wouldn’t suddenly trust or like him, but the unnecessary hate should be moved to the backburner until he does something worthy of it. Tolerating him sounded like a safe enough first step to take. 

“Oh you poor poor dear! You have nothing to be ashamed of. Whatever helps you deal best.” Mrs. Weasley said as she practically threw herself at him and embraced him in what must have been a tight if not slightly awkward hug due to both of them sitting down.

“Well, that settles things then. Arthur, Molly, thank you again for your kindness. I will speak to Scrimgeour about the O.W.Ls and see if Tom can pass them tomorrow morning. Please expect me early in the morning, either way, to help with the move to Grimmauld Place.”

“I will see you back at Hogwarts if we miss each other tomorrow Harry. Tom, make sure to rest well. I take my leave of you all. Goodnight. ” Dumbledore said before stepping out and disapparating as he walked further into the night.

Mrs. Weasley had let go of Riddle and was now serving Harry and him two bowls of what smelled like heavenly onion soup. Riddle seemed to think so as well if the smile he had on his face as she placed the hot bowl along with some bread in front of him was anything to go by. “Thank you very much,” he said, ever the polite pretender. 

Harry mumbled his own thanks as he hungrily tore a piece of bread and took a big slurp of hot soup that made his eyes water and his tongue sting. Riddle was looking at him with an amused look in his eyes that for once didn’t appear condescending and Harry ignored him in favor of eating more of his soup. He had decided to tolerate him so that meant no more glares or narrowed eyes, just passive reactions. He was almost rid of him.

“Oh but you sure had a growth spurt, Harry, goodness you are just like Ron. You’d think someone had cast several growth charms on you both. Eat to your fill, I’m sure as a growing boy you must be hungry.” 

Harry nodded and realised he had almost finished his serving. “Can I have some more, please?” he asked. Mrs. Weasley beamed at him and immediately levitated his bowl and poured two ladle-fulls of soup into it. Harry tore into bread and tried to cool off his soup by blowing on it a couple of times before taking a much smaller gulp than last time. 

“Oh, and you lived completely with muggles? But your grandfather still taught you magic? Fascinating, do you happen to know anything about how these new inventions called cellulose phones?” came Mr. Weasley’s voice and both Harry and Mrs. Weasley turned to the side to find Riddle half finished with his soup and soaking his bread in it. 

“Arthur, don’t bring up such things, the poor boy is probably not ready to talk about it.” Mrs. Weasley admonished and Mr. Weasley looked guilty before Riddle shook his head.

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind really. Speaking of my family does not bother me. And to answer your questions sir, yes I did live mostly in a muggle village, but it was quaint and very much away from any big cities. My grandfather, unfortunately, was very paranoid and it only got worse as he aged so when I came to stay with him, he only had muggle creations and history books up until the 1940s. I'm afraid I don't know much about modern muggle creations.” Riddle’s voice had taken a sad intonation at the end, indicating somewhat he was done with the subject.

Harry took another sip of his soup and silently admired just how much thought Riddle has put into his story. Making sure that every little discrepancy had an answer, that his story was believable yet still made sure people wouldn’t ask much considering the tragic nature of his tales. It was admirable and a little bit terrifying.

Mr. Weasley seemed about to say something before a look from his wife cut him short and he turned to Harry with a smile. “I’m not sure if Ron told you but I was promoted, recently Harry.” 

Harry managed to get out an enthusiastic “So happy for you” through a bite of bread and soup in his mouth. “Congratulations!” Riddle’s more subdued voice joined in and the two Weasleys both beamed at them.

“You are both so sweet. And yes Arthur is head of his own department, tell them about it, dear!” Mrs. Weasly looked excited and Harry smiled and turned to Mr. Weasley who puffed his chest a little bit.

“You see the new minister created several new departments to better handle the current situation and I was appointed head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Quite the mouthful I know. But with what is going on currently our department is very important.”

“And what is exactly…”

It was Mrs. Weasley who answered while she poured more soup for him and Riddle. “You see with the panic provoked by the return of You-Know-Who, quite a number of enchanted and unsafe objects started being sold almost everywhere. Bracelets to ward off Death Eaters and You-Know-Who and alert of their presence, so-called protective potions that turned out to be just meat stew with a splash of Budobulb, and many more. A lot of the crooks selling these items are much like Mundungus Fletcher, individuals who have never done an honest day’s work in their life.” Mrs. Weasley grumbled the end of her sentence angrily.

“I and the ten other people under my orders have the job of regulating and confiscating these objects. Although, I still find myself missing the toasters and bicycles, and just the other day someone had those phones I mentioned to Tom before. You wouldn’t happen to know more about them would you Harry?” he asked hopefully. Mrs. Weasley shook her head and stopped Harry’s reply.

“Arthur, it’s getting late. Let’s let them rest. I trust you both are sated now?”

Harry and Riddle nodded and Mrs. Weasley levitated their empty bowls to the sink. “Wonderful. Harry dear, your suitcase is already upstairs. I have prepared Fred and George’s room as they are both staying in the flat above their new shop. I only freed up one of the beds however so I will need to quickly move their things from the other bed for you Tom.” 

Riddle shook his head. “No please I would prefer it if I just slept on the couch in the living room. I will sleep easier if I can see the way out of the house. I’m sorry if that’s too much to ask but after what happened...” Mrs. Weasley’s worried motherly look was back on full force and she quickly hugged Riddle again. Harry was surprised to see the other young man take all her hugs and shows of affection in stride. He'd expected him to look all stiff and uneasy as he himself had been for the first couple of times Molly Weasley had hugged him, as unused as he was to casual displays of affection like hugs. But there he was surprised again. He needed to stop making so many assumptions about this version of Riddle as he was clearly planning to never stop surprising him. 

“Of course dear, if you need anything…”

Riddle shook his head. “I’m so tired I will probably fall asleep as soon as I lay my head down.” 

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips but smiled slightly at him, “All right I’ll prepare the couch for you. Arthur, go up with Harry and light up the room, please.” 

Mr. Weasley acquiesced and Harry followed behind as they made their way towards the stairs. 

“Good night Potter,” Riddle said and Harry found that he started associating this soft-spoken smooth voice less and less with Diary Riddle.

“Goodnight,” he said to the room and stepped in right after Mr. Weasley.

“Fred and George have been highly successful in their business endeavors. Molly and I couldn’t be prouder. They have to stay right above their shop because of this. I haven’t been in their room in a long time but I do believe they have turned it into some sort of place of storage. So be careful with what you touch there, you know how those two are.” Mr. Weasley chuckled before he opened the door and lit a small lamp in the middle of the room. The room smelled strongly of cannon powder despite the attempt at masking the smell using some flowers. He bid Mr. Weasley goodnight and waved at Hedwige who had been awaiting his return to the room before flying off outside. Harry changed into a pair of pajamas and fell asleep almost immediately after he threw away the puking pastilles under his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, so here we go another day another chapter. I'm not sure how long this fast-paced updating schedule will stay in place but I sure af ain't mad about it. I have my own headcanon about a lot of things that are not specified in the books including if Ginny ever actually saw Riddle before that time in the chamber of secrets and why I have decided to get Riddle to not stay in the Burrow. All will become clearer as the story progresses tho I promise.
> 
> In regard to Tom's wand, my headcanon is that Olivander made the two wands at the same time when Fawkes visited him and gave him two feathers. The difference in childhoods and some parts of the two Tom's personalities meant au Tom ended up with the holly wand while og Tom got the yew one. I plan to delve into this more after.
> 
> My goal in this fic is to make Riddle look like a 90s heartthrob like that cute guy Brandon from Beverly Hills 90210 and nothing can stop me or the growing alarm that Harry will feel as Tom becomes more and more bad boy handsome. Poor Harry can't catch a break someone please help his chaotic baby bi ass :(
> 
> In any case, Tom delved even deeper into his fake backstory and I'm sure he must be very proud of himself for thinking of such an intricate tale. He should get paid for it really!1!!1! His new fake last name Jedusor is the last name given to Tom Riddle in the french translation, so I'm sure those of you who're familiar with the french harry potter books and movies would have noticed the easter egg. I did it as a bit of fun, and because my rendition of Tom decided to make his new father a french man.
> 
> Finally, next chapter we're switching POVs to Tom's so please look forward to that!


	4. Of Doxies and Wizards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom has some inner dialogue about everything that's happened to him so far, falls asleep then passes his OWLS. Oh, and who the fuck said live and let live has not met Tom. Or Tom after a doxy bite. Also, is that what he thinks it is? Cause surely Voldemort wouldn't be so careless about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a Cliffhanger so brace yourselves for it!

Tom could not sleep. His body naturally didn’t need much sleep and this last year, the amount of rest he did need he usually would get by sleeping as soon as he finished his Prefect rounds. Sleeping about four hours, he would then wake up to read or practice some type of magic. 

Tonight, however, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink considering everything that had happened.

Tom had just finished his history of magic owl exam and had made his way to the room of requirements, deciding to change from his usual demands—a replica of his own bedroom with a small library—and instead entered the maze of objects that had been amassed there for almost a millennia. He’d only meant to check that blackened crown in curiosity as it had fallen from a pile of objects near his feet but somehow it was like he was jutted out his body to land straight into the Hogwarts potions master’s living room. 

In the future.

Fifty-three years into the future if the date on the daily prophet that had been on the kitchen table was anything to go by. The same Daily Prophet issue he had come back for when he was sure everyone had gone to bed. He had also looked around for other newspapers and read a month’s worth of news in two hours, before carefully returning them back to their place. Suffice to say, his mind had been reeling since. 

Harry Potter was much more significant than he had looked in his clearly ill-fitting clothes and wiry glasses and though at first, Tom had dismissed him as insignificant, he’d reevaluated Potter's worth when he witnessed the teen's familiarity with Dumbledore. But even then he had only thought Dumbledore valued his opinion and input so much because the other teen knew Voldemort’s identity. A remarkable feat if he were to believe Dumbledore’s words that his alternate self had gone above and beyond to erase anything linking him to Tom Marvolo Riddle. But he thought it all made sense, Potter had been part of an incident involving some heavy dark magic that had possessed a young girl and made her open the chamber of secrets. 

Except it didn't.

Something about that story did not sit right with him. Tom knew of a couple of artefacts and baubles he had read about, studied, and even looked at closely in Borgin and Burkes that could lead to _posessions_. All of them were from ancient Egypt or the different indigenous people of the American Continent and were riddled with ancient magic that was mostly unknown to the wizarding world at large. These possessions were also usually permanent, not even destroying the artefact would put an end to it as the transfer of malicious intent and magic could not be reversed. In general, the process involved a curse being cast on an object and intensified by the sacrifice of life or the power of a spiteful ghost or spirit. Additionally, for this young witch to open the chamber she’d need to speak parseltongue, and he found himself hesitant to consider the existence of a curse potent enough to pass on hereditary magic abilities like Parseltongue. 

Needless to say, Tom was rightfully confused and irritated at Dumbledore who had deliberately told him only the bare minimum, probably conscious of the weight and meaning of each of his words. Then again, despite the old coot’s efforts at keeping him in the dark, Tom had nonetheless formed a sound enough theory about the nature of this object that seemed like it had a will of its own. All he needed was to confirm his theories by doing further research on the subject and checking if a soul fragment trapped in an object was even capable of possession. There was Dumbledore though, the man who would likely obstruct him as much as he could if he was anything like the annoying arse who taught Tom.

Bloody Dumbledore! Tom snarled at the thought of the man he had never liked even when he was his transfiguration professor. Tom hated dealing with the man more than anything else. A lot of Tom's dislike stemmed from how powerful the older man was, even rumored to be on par with Grindelwald. Not only was the man powerful, he was also observant, and though Tom was loath to admit it, smart enough to see right through a lot of Tom’s actions. The transfiguration professor had been the motivation for him to try to find the perfect balance of fake and real in his behavior that would make him stand out just enough from the masses without revealing who or what he truly was inside. And while Tom would have been happy to not have to look at that awful auburn beard, this version of Dumbledore, aged well over 110, was somehow even more frightening. Tom could still feel how the hairs on his body had stood on end when the old man had regarded him with a frigid and ruthless glare and so easily knew he had been deliberately hiding some memories. Tom could not help but fear him a little. 

Adding insult to injury, the old man was now headmaster of Hogwarts. This meant so much about his beloved school, including the library’s restricted section, would be altered and restricted. His theory will have to stay just that as he will have no way to read more about Horcruxes. Tom scoffed and tightened his hold on his wand in an effort to calm himself down. He needed to keep a calm head to reiterate all the information he had acquired and make the correct conclusions.

Knowing that focusing on Dumbledore was only going to sour his mood further, Tom decided to backtrack back to Potter and his incredulous history, which had been very much a hard pill to swallow. Dumbledore was extremely powerful, yet he had not been the one to ostensibly defeat Voldemort. No, when Tom had read the Prophet article with Potter’s moving scowling picture he started by going over a couple of sentences under the picture that were meant to refresh readers’ memories and had the title _Chosen One destined since birth?_. The reporter stated that the young teen had been able to defeat Voldemort as a one-year-old baby and helped bring in fourteen years of peace before the Dark Lord had returned. 

This had him reread the small paragraph multiple times. A one-year-old baby defeating an alternate version of himself in his sixties? Preposterous. Tom had only managed to move on when he vowed to himself to learn all he could about this farce; first from history books and then firsthand from Potter or his friends. 

But while that little piece of information had left him reeling for ten minutes, it was what actually written in the article itself what with the mentions of prophecies and Potter being hailed as the only one capable of ending Voldemort’s reign that had truly gobsmacked him. A mere sixteen-year-old standing up against Voldemort? This completely deranged alternate version of himself who was the cause of so many murders, general mayhem, and destruction that was explained as natural disasters to the muggles? Again this was ridiculous. 

Tom was not a fool however, on the small chance that these talks of prophecies were indeed true and the obnoxious Gryffindor was well and truly the “Savior”, he needed to do everything in his powers to have Potter on his side.

Tom brought a hand to his chin, scratched absently at the rough patch of stubble he had shaved two days ago, the drag of small hairs on his nails grounding. He needed to weigh his options: stay or find a way back.

The first option meant he needed to find the artefact that had most definitely brought him here, considering the one from his own time had turned to dust as soon as he landed on Slughorn’s carpet. He would need to look for it in this timeline, which meant scurrying the mountains of objects stashed in the room of requirements. His chances of coming back home were then slim at best. Yet even were he to somehow find a way back home he had a young Dumbledore who was about to defeat Grindelwald to look forward to as a major obstacle in his political aspirations.

One detriment of staying would be that he would miss his father, although Tom Riddle Sr. had deteriorating health issues as of late and Tom had only about two summers to spend with him before he would move to London; so it wasn’t as if he was letting go of a substantial and overly beneficial relationship. The lack of money would be a problem but for the near future, he had his enchanted bag around his neck full of money and heirlooms he could sell.

Tom thought he heard what was a gnome shrieking in the distance and considered what the future had in store for him in this present timeline. Firstly, Dumbledore was old and—if that curse on his right arm was what Tom thought it was—living on very limited time. Secondly, the ministry and the wizarding community of Britain seemed to be a hotchpotch of uncoordinated officials and departments stretched too thin trying to contain all of Voldemort’s chaos, appeasing the masses and keeping a semblance of peace and order. The ministry was thus at a most optimal state for an easy takeover, especially if it would be facilitated by being the ally of the Chosen One and playing a part in defeating the tyrant that’s been terrorizing this world for decades.

Tom smiled at the ceiling, and couldn’t help a rush at the thought that he would be able to achieve his goals and prove himself better than this failure that was Voldemort.

Harry Potter was the key: earn his trust and friendship and the rest would fall in place. 

Mind finally appeased, Tom was glad for the opportunity to be living alone as he’d have plenty of time to plan for the year ahead and his future in this world. With promises of an enticing future, Tom slowly drifted into sleep.

* * *

Tom woke up abruptly at what sounded like a loud clang and a muttered curse from a man and a hiss or shushing sound. He blearily opened his eyes and noticed that the first rays of morning light filtered through the windows and had to take a couple of seconds to take in the fact that no this was not his bed at Hogwarts or at Riddle Manor but that the crick in his neck and the overly crowded and earthy toned decor was the Weasley’s haphazardly constructed house.

He sat up on the couch and rubbed the sleep and dried drool off his face with minimal annoyance. Try as hard as he might, he was never able to stop himself from drooling in his sleep, something his father found both endearing and amusing. Speaking of fathers, it turned out the one who had woken up was the patriarch of the Weasley family if the hushed conversation between him and his wife was any indication. 

Tom cracked his neck, stretched his limbs, cast a silent cleaning charm on the pair of orange pajamas Mrs. Weasley had given him earlier this day, and got up. He grabbed his shirt and the pants he had wondered at a bit yesterday when he first saw Potter wearing workers’ blue jeans. He had to admit, though, this black more fitted one he had transfigured his trousers from before were very flattering and while stiff still somewhat comfortable. 

He headed for the kitchen with his clothes in hand and a practiced smile already in place. “Good Morning.” 

Mrs. Weasley, who had been about to kiss her husband goodbye before he probably went to work, jumped a little and turned around with a red face. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment before her husband squeezed her shoulder probably to calm her down.

“Good morning Tom. I have to leave for the ministry; somewhat urgent business, you see. Take care and good luck on your OWLs and your future endeavors.” Mr. Weasley inclined his head, seemed to squeeze his wife’s shoulder once more before finally going out the kitchen back door and closing it behind him in a rush.

“Tom dear, why are you up now? It's still so early.”

The woman had taken to calling him by his first name and dotting on him despite only knowing him for minutes and while it grated slightly on his nerves how overly familiar she was with him, there was nothing he could do about it for now. He turned his smile slightly down in what he knew was a perfectly sheepish expression from years of practice in the mirror. 

“Sorry for startling you, I usually wake up at first light per the rules my grandfather had instilled for me since I was a child. I don’t really require much sleep either.” 

This seemed to do the trick as the plump woman’s frown softened and she smiled tentatively at him. The smile turned bemused when she saw him holding his clothes.

“May I use your bathroom to change, please?” He needed to relieve himself and take a closer look at his new transfigured face as well but he was hardly going to disclose that to her.

“Oh, of course, dear. We have a couple of bathrooms in the house but how about you use the one on the ground floor, it’s just over here, there’s a shower also if you wish to wash up.” she pointed at a door that was right next to the stairs. 

Tom smiled gratefully “ Thank you but I showered yesterday before Potter and Professor Dumbledore collected me to go visit Professor Slughorn.”

Mrs. Weasley looked surprised and Tom’s grip on the bundle of clothes in his hand tightened. She was not going to let him go change anytime soon was she?

“Oh? Albus took you with him? That’s surprising.”

Tom raised his hand and scratched the back of his head in an imitation of what he had seen Potter do when talking to the Weasleys. He hoped it didn’t look forced. “My grandfather was a very special student of his, so Professor Dumbledore thought my being there might help convince him to come back. Grandfather had told me quite a lot of stories about him and what he had dubbed ‘gaudy soirees’. I thought it was just an old man’s exaggerations of course until I witnessed with my own eyes how his soft fluffy furniture seemed to rest on soft fluffy furniture of its own.” Mrs. Weasley let out a startled chuckle and Tom smiled conspiringly at her, which only made her smile grow more. She was charmed. 

Tom let go of his shirt and interrupted her before she could reply. He really needed to piss. He quickly picked the shirt up as she shook her head. “Look at me talking your ear off when I should let you freshen up,” she said with a smile still on her face.

“You mean I was talking your ear off Madame,” he replied with a charming smile he knew worked wonders on all the older witches he met at Diagon Alley when shopping before he went to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Letting the smile drop off his face like a bad habit, Tom looked around and thanked Merlin the woman at least was diligent with her housework as the small bathroom looked cluttered but clean. He relieved himself and then made quick work of taking off his pajamas and washed his face then armpits with water and soap.

Looking up at the mirror he found himself staring at a slightly altered version of himself that held enough resemblance to his old self to look like family but not enough to be a carbon copy. The straight hair that was longer than he ever had before was falling down his eyes and he quickly brushed it to the side with his hand out of reflex before he remembered this wasn’t the 1940s anymore and instead pushed all of it to the back and out of his face. 

Tom took off the small bag he had wrapped around his neck and cast a summoning charm to get his _Un Homme de Caron_ cologne bottle out. Ever since his suitcase had been lost in a ferry trip around the Nile river when he was twelve, Tom had made sure to carry with himself all his essentials at all time, even at Hogwarts. A simple Undetectable Extension Charm on a lambskin pouch allowed him to carry almost all his possessions with himself at all times. Another protective charm on all the glass and fragile objects meant he could use a simple Accio to get access to anything he had stored inside. A quite ingenious feat he was more than a little proud of, and that meant he had to owe no one anything or Merlin forbid be forced to use charity money from Hogwarts.

Spraying once on each of his wrists, he rubbed them together before spraying once more on his neck. Smelling of his familiar favorite lavender and vanilla scent, Tom put on the black shirt and jeans considering shifting their colors for a small moment before he remembered Dumbledore had prohibited him from using magic. He scoffed and checked himself one final time in the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom, his neatly-folded pajamas in hand. 

The smell of fried sausage and eggs greeted him as he got out and he found himself grateful again that despite the many faults the woman had, the Weasley matriarch was a great cook. 

“Smells wonderful Mrs. Weasley,” he complimented not yet taking a seat.

Mrs. Weasley saw him hesitate and smiled comfortingly at him. “Take a seat, Tom. A young growing man like you needs a good hearty breakfast.” She took a look at the clock she seemed to carry everywhere with her then filled a plate with eggs and levitated it in front of him. 

“Start with the eggs for now, the sausage still needs a couple more minutes.” He nodded and she turned back to the stove.

He ate his eggs in silence, glad the older woman was lost in her own thoughts and did not think to start small talk with him. A plate with three quite big sausages levitated in front of him just as he was scarfing down the last of his eggs. He had adopted Potter’s way of eating because he felt it would make the Weasleys, who were clearly less than fortunate feel relaxed and in familiar terrain. It seemed to work considering the fond look Mrs. Weasley threw at him as she turned around. He smiled back right after he swallowed and started in on his sausages.

“Oh, but how will you eat all by yourself in that house? Albus can’t expect you to cook for yourself, can he? With that muttering house elf at your heels, I doubt you could even make an egg without burning it!” Tom frowned at this and was about to interject by saying he could just order the house elf to cook for him, but she was not finished. 

“Not that you couldn’t be a good cook, but still young men like you have enough on their plate, Merlin knows all my boys could not be trusted to cook for themselves. No to mention after what happened to you why should you have to…” 

Three distinct knocks interrupted her tirade and Tom couldn’t believe he was relieved by Dumbledore’s presence when his voice filtered through the door. “Good morning, Molly, Tom.” the headmaster said as he entered the kitchen. Tom noticed he looked very much tired what with the bags under his eyes and the way he was keeping his right arm completely still. 

Both Tom and Mrs. Weasley replied in kind. “Albus good timing! I was just telling Tom that he shouldn’t have to cook for himself in that house and that is if he even knows how! Honestly, after the horrible ordeal he had to go through, why does he need to do so much by himself?” 

Dumbledore raised his brows and glanced passingly at Tom before he smiled as if he already knew she was going to bring up the issue. “Not to worry Molly, I have already thought of the issue and asked one of the Hogwarts house elves to bring Tom three meals a day, as well as help with laundry and the like. I trust that appeases your worries?” at Weasley’s reluctant nod the headmaster smiled and turned to Tom.

“I see you are about to finish your breakfast so it seems I came at the right time. It’s nice to see you share your grandfather’s early morning cheerful disposition.” Tom wanted to roll his eyes so badly at these empty pleasantries but plastered a fake smile Dumbledore could easily look through “Yes sir, I love waking up early, it leaves so much of the day up for grasp.”

The old coot’s eyes twinkled knowingly and a small smile stretched his thin lips. “Indeed. You will be happy to know I have explained your extraneous circumstances to the minister of magic himself who has helped arrange for you to take your O.W.L exams as well as offer his condolences. Throughout this upcoming week, you will be taking the written and practical exams of the core five subjects as well as the written exams for Arithmancy, Magical Runes, Muggle Studies, and History of magic. You will have to stay until nighttime for the astronomy practical exam. I am afraid Care of Magical Creatures and Divination would not be available until next week. So you might have to schedule other sessions if you wish to pass those.” 

Tom finished his last bite of sausage and wiped his mouth with a small napkin. “Thank you sir for arranging this, it all sounds perfect. I do not believe I will take the last two exams as I have very little practical knowledge of the first and no need for the second.” he pushed his chair back and went to wash his hands under the watchful eyes of Dumbledore and Molly Weasley, the latter of whom he smiled and bowed his head slightly at. 

“Thank you so much for such a delicious meal, Madame. Your hospitality was more than I could have ever asked for.” He hoped this display of politeness would warrant him a bow in return but of course he found himself held in a tight embrace, and forced himself not to twitch as he returned the hug.

“Take care of yourself, dear boy, stay strong and good luck on your exams.”

Tom smiled as he pulled away and followed after Dumbledore who had tipped his head for Mrs. Weasley before he opened the door. “Have a great day Molly.” 

The feel of the morning breezee on his skin was wonderful and Tom took a lungful of clean fresh air, and continued behind his old transfiguration professor. He definitely was not going to miss this place.

“How was your night at the Burrow Tom?” Dumbledore asked evenly.

“Splendid thank you. The Weasleys are good people and I loved Mrs. Weasley’s cooking.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Well, I am glad to hear that. Now please take a hold of my left arm.” Tom regarded the arm extended his way and grabbed it at the forearm tightly. His eyes couldn't help but drift down to the familiar Gaunt ring. With the daylight, Tom could now see that the black stone was parted in the middle as if someone had tried to split it in half. Tom had taken the ring from his disgraced beast of an uncle only last summer when the madman had attacked him after he knocked on his door, not heeding his father’s warnings and wanting to know more about his mother’s family after four years of growing curiosity. More importantly, though, he needed to find out what the bloody hell Dumbledore was doing with his family heirloom.

He didn’t have the time to ask as the moment his arm tightened around Dumbledore’s forearm, he was being apparated away.

_What a rude antagonising old bastard._

They landed in the middle of a deserted alley in what Tom assumed was London. A 1996 London with no traces whatsoever of war. More than a little amazed, Tom looked at the oddly designed cars parked alongside the road as he followed Dumbledore out of the alley. 

“Quite the change from your time is it not?” 

“Yes, the muggles’ ability to grow is still as remarkable as ever.”

Dumbledore had a bewildered smiled on his face as he looked back at Tom and he couldn’t help but try his luck with this version of Dumbledore. Maybe he wouldn’t be closed off to questions, especially if Tom volunteered some of his knowledge as well. But asking about the ring now could backfire. No, he needed to gain more ground with the headmaster. “Sir, I was wondering if you and I could have set meetings through the upcoming school year.” Dumbledore’s step barely faltered as he threw an unreadable look in Tom's direction.

“And why is that, Tom?” 

Tom cleared his throat and decided to take a small gamble. “Well I want to know as much as I can about Voldemort and share what I know with you as well so we can strategise properly, I know time is of the essence with his power rising and your… well your arm sir.” 

Dumbledore froze for a second before he seemed to quicken his step and headed for what looked to be a red telephone booth. Tom frowned but matched his pace and soon the two of them were standing in front of each other in a small space. Tom felt himself sweat a bit in nerves as Dumbledore regarded him with a look that to cut deep to the soul.

“It seems I have been wrong about your deep involvement with dark magic Tom. Did you hide your entanglement with dark magic from me last night? And if you did why bring it up to me now. Just what are you planning with that terrifying mind of yours?” 

Tom almost preened at Dumbledore calling his mind terrifying but the pressure from Dumbledore’s aggressive magic was too much for him to focus on anything else. “Knowledge is power sir, the more I read about magic the more power I had. I steered clear from actually practicing many of the dark arts I studied but I did my all to acquire as much knowledge as I could. The curse you’re afflicted with was something I came by in passing when I was looking into Albanian magic curses.” 

Dumbledore’s eyes were still boring holes into his face but the aggressiveness seemed to diminish a bit. Tom continued on. “It requires the sacrifice of a very strong sentient magical creature. The hatred and ire of the creature upon its death are poured and sealed into an object, making it capable of cursing people through touch. Sometimes conditions can be set on the activation of the curse and strengthen the curse even further. I believe sir whatever object you touched was immensely powerful, and I read that in that case, even the strongest of spells could only hope to detain the curse for a year.”

Dumbledore sighed and looked his age, wear and a frown adorning his face. “To think even at sixteen you knew so much Tom. It is clear the two of you are more alike than I had thought. Very well, I will agree to discussing matters with you, but do remember that should I for one second feel you are a danger to any other student at Hogwarts, or the battle against Voldemort, I will take immediate action.”

Tom nodded, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been keeping. “Sir, I will share something with you to hopefully gain a bit more of your trust, quickly so we do not take too much time.” 

Tom knew Dumbledore had cast some spell on the phone booth that allowed them privacy.

“I want to become minister of magic—as you know from what I said yesterday—because I want to change the wizarding world for the better. Not through force or oppression but through politics. This means of course not everything is going to be all clear cut and abide by the law, but I promise I have no intention of hurting our beautiful country and wizarding community, just strengthen it so we are more often than not on top of any threat. To achieve this vision, Voldemort and his extremist views and followers need to be contained and erased completely. My number one priority is to help take him down, it is also further fueled by my own need to prove I am better than this deranged version of myself.”

Dumbledore sighed heavily “Do not think your attempts at manipulating me are subtle Tom. Yet, an old man such as myself with so very little time left to live has no choice but to pass on the reins to you younger people. Your sharing of your general plans helps me see that you are not unreachable or unable to see reason.”

Dumbledore gave him a heavy and piercing gaze that insinuated he was not trusted explicitly and he needed to watch himself. Yes, yes Tom received the message, already.

“We will move on from this for now and onto the subject matter of your OWL exams.” Tom twirled his wand in his hand and masked all signs of relief from his face. Having even a portion of Dumbledore’s trust meant he could move much more freely this year and scheme appropriately.

* * *

Tom sighed tiredly as he stepped from the fireplace of his new place of residence. 12 Grimmauld Place. Owned by the Ancient House of Black, one of the sacred twenty-eight as well as one of the richest and oldest wizarding families. Now however, Harry Potter who was the sole hereditary of his Black heir Godfather had inherited the house as well as the whole Black fortune. This meant Potter was not only influential, and apparently powerful, he was also rich and with Wizenmagot seats to boot. Tom laughed incredulously as he took off his shoes and conjured himself a pair of slippers. 

Grabbing a pair of pajamas from his leather pouch, Tom pondered about how the day had gone. His gamble in relaying a big part of his plans to Dumbledore had worked somewhat and the man had repaid him by telling him about the fight between himself and Voldemort some weeks earlier in order to protect a certain prophecy. This meant the security desk of the ministry was still being repaired and he wouldn’t have to hand his wand in as Dumbledore was vouching for him. Tom had to register his name with the Wizarding Examinations Authority in the Department of Magical Education , before both he and Dumbledore took the floo to his office in Hogwarts.

Tom had barely had the time to look around at the castle as he was ushered into a classroom to take his Potions and Charms written exams. He'd finished the very easy examinations with enough time to spare and had been allowed to take their practicals as well. A house-elf wearing ugly socks and bonnets of all things had brought him his lunch and then dinner. Tom finally had to go back to the headmaster’s office where he was told by Dumbledore he had to floo back in every morning at eight for the next two days.

The house was empty and he didn’t really want to look into things until he had all his wits about him, for now, he needed to sleep. Making his way up the stairs he got into the first room he found and settled himself before he heard the pop sound of an apparition and turned around wand at the ready. Finding no one at eye level he looked down and looked at what was probably one of the ugliest and oldest house elves he had ever seen.

“Filth in Mistress’s house! Mudbloods infesting Mistress’ noble house again. Kreacher thought he was rid of all the filth in the ancestral home of Black when Mistress’s traitor son was killed but now Kreacher has to serve Mudbloods and let Filth stay in his Mistress—” Tom cast a silent full body bind curse at the elf, effectively ending his rant. He really did not have the patience for the ramblings of this filthy creature. Killing it would be too bothersome considering it probably belonged to Potter now and would definitely be missed.

Sighing exasperatedly, Tom moved next to the creature and cast an obliviate on it. This was not something he could keep doing every day however as too many memory charms could end up damaging the elf’s already frail sanity and coherence. He could try a tongue lock curse on it or a Confundus charm. In any case, this was not something he needed to think of for now. He levitated the house elf and not so gently put him down at the bottom of the stairs before he closed the door behind himself and went to sleep.

* * *

The rest of his exams had passed as well as the ones he had started taking about two weeks ago, which was not surprising. Dumbledore had sent him on his way telling him he would probably be receiving his grades on the day the Weasleys and Potter were going to Diagon Alley and that he was to accompany them for his own safety. He was supposed to floo there in early August after they would all receive their shopping list and that he’d receive the exact date by Owl. This meant he had several weeks to peruse the house. He sure hoped the Black library would have some hidden gems and keep him occupied until then. Tom woke up the day after his last exams feeling refreshed and having cast Confundus charm on that pest of a house elf the night before, took his freshly delivered breakfast in the kitchen. He showered and then decided to start looking for the library.

On the first floor Tom had found the drawing-room and cleaned the dust that had settled slightly with a cleaning charm as it was the most appropriate room for him to read books and even practice spells. He found the library on the second floor and marked the door with a scratch on the door. The third floor had a room that smelled a lot like hippogryph droppings and looked to have housed one until very recently. 

“What the bloody hell is wrong with this house?” he asked no one in particular.

The upper floor held two distinctly different bedrooms that had the most character out of every other room in the house. “A Gryffindor Black how interesting. I’m guessing you were Potter’s Godfather.” Tom muttered absently as he looked at the quite outlandish decor and raised his brows at the pictures of scantily clad muggle girls and motorcycles. He had once seen one of the maids in her undergarments when he was younger so it wasn’t like there was anything surprising about the pictures.

He looked inside the closet instead and almost jumped out his skin when there was a shriek and a quick movement from behind the bed drapings and he felt a sharp pain in his hand. 

“A fucking doxy infestation?” he screamed out frustrated and quickly cast a freezing charm at the spiteful pests. The poison was already affecting him as he felt the poison pulsing through his veins. He quickly took out his pouch and summoned a vial of the _Antidote of Common Poisons_ and drank it one gulp. He then summoned a _Girding Potion_ and downed a dose of it as well.

Feeling himself regaining strength, Tom pointed his wand at the disgusting and abhorrent creature that dared bite him and cast a vicious _Crucio_. He had mostly used the Cruciatus curse on animals and his uncle last summer but it still made him feel so full of power as he poured all his hate into the spell. Tom could without a doubt understand those who had become addicted to casting it. He finally used the Killing curse to end its suffering and hastily killed the rest of the pests. Huffing angrily Tom opened the closet and found what looked like leather jackets that he grabbed along with some expensive-looking formal robes, boots and jeans. “Taking what you owe me for almost getting me put in hospital by housing a bloody Doxy nest” he added nastily before he stormed out of the room in what was probably a petulant manner but he didn’t care. He was fuming. 

“This is what I get for coming into a house with an absolutely mental house-elf that can’t even be arsed to do its FUCKING job.” He screamed as he made his way back down the stairs. 

He was about to enter the room he had taken for himself on the first floor when he heard some noise and halted. “I don’t care what Potter or Dumbledore are going to do, I’m maiming that house elf,” Tom vowed as he threw the clothes on the bed and descended the steps down to the kitchen. He thought he heard a much more human voice muttering something so he cast a silencing charm around himself and slowly pushed open the kitchen door. 

A small short pudgy man with messy long hair was talking in a hushed tone as he looked around in a cabinet that seemed full of valuable trinkets. He was shoving most of it in a bag he had by his feet. Tom regarded him for a moment, his red hair made him possibly related to the Weasleys, so that meant he could have been given permission to come to the house by Potter. His hesitation was cut short when Tom saw a flash of a familiar golden locket and immediately cast a silent disarming charm.

The man let out a startled scream as the wand he had been lazily holding in one hand jumped out of his grasp and onto the floor. “ _Accio_ wand,” said Tom before the man could properly turn. He grasped the man’s wand tightly. “ _Fulgari_ ” he waved his wand at the intruder and he was immediately tied around by vicious luminous cords. “What the bleedin’ ‘ell!? ‘ou the fuck are you?”

Tom didn’t waste his time replying to the ugly man. He whispered _Imperio_ , and smiled in satisfaction as the man’s eyes immediately hazed over and his features relaxed.

“What is your full name?” 

“Mundungus Fletcher.”

“What is your relation to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter?”

“Member o’ the order o’ the phoenix. Ay’ owe Dumbledore a large debt. I s’pose I like ‘arry well enough.”

Tom scratched his chin. So this man was neither a Weasley nor was he close to Potter. Tom tried summoning the locket but for some reason it didn’t work. He walked over to Fletcher and picked it up before he felt something like a heartbeat pulse inside it. The locket seemed to positively buzz with delight as he brushed his thumb on the green S, and Tom felt the bottom of his stomach drop when he heard the pendant hiss at him in Parseltongue.

“ _Yes, yes my own flesh and blood. What twist of fate allowed you to find me_.” Tom dropped the locket as if it had burned him. Then hissed an order at it in parseltongue to calm down using all his might. It surprisingly did as he wished and he felt it pulse against his fingers yet again. He felt a prickle in his mind and immediately brought up all his mental defences. “Do not dare think you can breach my mind,” he said angrily and the locket seemed to rebel for a little while as it grew impossibly hotter but eventually subsided when he did not budge. That had definitely been his own voice speaking at him in parseltongue. This was a bloody Horcrux. 

Before he could do anything, there was a loud pop and he found himself getting pushed back by what felt like a knockback jinx and he dropped both the wands he was carrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, well that was a fun 6k to write. Tom just has a lot of thoughts so I'm sorry if the chapter doesn't have much dialogue or action at the start, my boy would always prefer talking to himself than say... the Weasleys. I also changed a major plot point with the locket and him finding out about it now. We know Mundungus had started coming to collect from the Black house after Sirius' death, and I headcanon that his first-ever trip to the house was done in the summer. This of course will have a lot of repercussions and lead to a quite noticeable divergence from canon and a scene between Tom and Harry that I have already written which is going to be absolutely insane. 
> 
> A lot of the magical knowledge Tom talks about is headcanon on my part including how the curse that was on the ring worked. This Tom is as much into shadow dealings as Voldemort if not more at this age and well shady dealings can make you acquire some pretty insane books about dark magic.
> 
> Also, I consider Tom to be a classic narcissist who plays a lot with gaining easy trust and acceptance as well as a lack of suspicion by taking advantage of his natural good looks and always looking his best. He also has a major superiority complex and I hope it shows throughout the chapter as he goes very "HOw DArE yOu" to pretty much anything from a pest to a house-elf and his own alternate version. 
> 
> The next chapter will still be Tom's POV. I've started on it now and it's going to be covering everything from this current cliffhanger to them arriving at Hogwarts. Also, the title is a play on _Of Mice and Men_ by John Steinbeck which came out in the late 30s I believe.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and staying with me on this wild ride, your comments and support have been making me so happy <33


	5. Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom fears concussions, deals out cruel punishments, and manages the very improbable as he is wont to do. Also whoever said shopping trips were all sunshine and giggles clearly didn't shop in Diagon Alley circa 1996. Meanwhile, assumptions are made, insults and screams are thrown around and Tom is just thinking about how exactly he could spin everything to his favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that Tom lies as easily as he breathes and I will not always incorporate it into the narrative. He won’t always plan out the lies, but will just adapt to the situation. He is a master bullshiter so if you read something and go huh but that's not what happened well to Tom that’s HIS truth.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

The locket had tightened of its own accord around his fingers as he hit the kitchen cabinets. The bloody house-elf had dared use magic on him? Could they even do that? Go against a wizard?

“Mudblood filth let go of Master Regulus’s locket. Kreacher will never allow for anyone to take away Master Regulus’s locket. Kreacher has failed Master’s final task to Kreacher to destroy it. So Kreacher will keep it safe, that is the least Kreacher can do, yes. Kreacher has no other choice, he already failed Master Regulus.” The elf seemed to be still somewhat affected by the Confundus charm Tom had thrown at it the previous night as it rambled almost to itself.

“Give the locket to Kreacher now!” The house elf screeched as it seemed to come back to itself.

“Kreacher, listen to me. I did not steal your master’s locket. It was this man, he was trying to take it so I stopped him all right?”

“If the filthy mudblood didn’t steal the locket why is he holding it now?” Kreacher asked having barely calmed down.

Tom racked his brain for an answer that would stop this bloody house elf from knocking him back again and giving him a concussion, he already felt the locket trying to breach his Occlumency shields as it tightened around his fingers.

“I know how to destroy it! The locket, I know what it is!” he said desperately. 

The house elf reared back “Lies! the mudblood lies, Kreacher tried every magic he knew how can a filthy mudblood know”

“I’m a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. I can speak parseltongue, and the reason why you couldn’t destroy it was because you had to open it using parseltongue. Here let me show you.” he said desperately trying to get to his wand before the bloody Horcrux possessed him or whatever it was trying to do. 

Kreacher still did not look convinced, he raised his hands as if to cast another spell at him and Tom grit his teeth, trying desperately to think of anything else he could say. “You want the locket destroyed more than anything right? If you hurt me now you might never be able to do it. You have the power here all right? Just let me show you. Please.” He added the last part with barely hidden fury.

The house elf finally relented and nodded warily “If the mudblood is lying Kreacher will make him regret it.”

“Open” he hissed at the locket which tightened to the point of cutting off the blood circulation of his hands, but still opened nonetheless. 

Kreacher let out a gasp. “You has opened the locket,” it said almost in awe.

“Yes, yes I did. Now I need my wand to finish it off. Can I get my wand?” he asked, trying to stand up. Kreacher didn’t say or do anything so Tom got up and walked to where his hand had been thrown, letting out a sigh of relief. He threw a glance at Fletcher and found him still starting dazedly ahead. Good, still under the spell. 

“I won’t be destroying you, it was just a trick to get my wand,” he hissed in parseltongue at the locket that was about to snap his fingers. The chain seemed to turn taut before relaxing and Tom put it on the table rubbing at his fingers to try and get the circulation back.

“I’ll cast the spell now. It’s a very complex one,” he said, raising his wand.

“Heir of Slytherin can go ahead.” the house elf said and Tom felt all his pent up rage come up at having been at the mercy of this filthy miserable creature.

He smiled nastily. “Of course. _Stupify_ ,” he snarled. The house elf dropped down like the sack of potatoes he was dressed with and Tom stepped over to it and kicked it so hard it hit the kitchen table with a loud thud. He was furious, his blood was boiling and he needed to let go of this fury. Someone had to pay. The filthy elf looked battered and would probably not survive the full brunt of his Cruciatus curse. Luckily, the man who had initiated all of this was available. Tom smiled nastily as he took off his Imperio, watching as the pathetic pile of a man tried to run away only to stumble and fall right back on his behind. Tom let out the full extent of his rage and tortured the piece of rubbish, enjoying his screams until they turned silent, and the man started throwing up and shaking. Feeling more in control of his anger now, he went ahead and stunned Fletcher. This was turning out to be one of the worst days of his life.

Tom dealt with the Horcrux first and conjured a box, put the bloody thing inside it, and made sure to cast all the protective charms he knew on it once he closed it shut.

He had Voldemort's Horcrux. Or at least one of them. The mad man had created multiple Horcruxes, which could be one reason why he was such a raving lunatic.

Tom scoffed and considered the fact that whatever had possessed the Weasley girl had been a Horcrux; one which had been more likely than not destroyed by a young Harry Potter.

He couldn’t believe Voldemort would use his own proof of noble lineage as a host of his soul but then again Tom wouldn’t accept anything else to host his own soul if he was to ever make a Horcrux. A diary with probable sentimental value that could easily be used as a means of easy and effective possession, a locket that belonged to his mother from Slytherin himself, and... the Gaunt ring? Yes! That was it, Dumbledore had probably broken it in two using some means of Horcrux destruction other than Fiendfyre. Three Horcruxes and two of them were already destroyed. Voldemort was losing and Tom couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“You utter fool, Dumbledore and a teenager have foiled your aspirations of immortality so easily.” He shook his head. But then again if Voldemort had made three Horcruxes why wouldn’t he have created more. Regardless, Tom now held a piece in the game that mattered greatly to all sides. He would decide what to do with it at a later date.

For now, Tom cast _Tempus_ and saw that it was about half an hour before the clothed house elf would bring him his lunch. He repaired the damage in the kitchen and cleaned Fletcher’s mess with his wand. Grabbing his leather pouch he proceeded to bring out his own universe’s locket. The locket his father had given him when was about to go to Hogwarts as he first mentioned his snake-obsessed relatives and his mother. He cast a temporary _Geminio_ on the locket and put the original back in his pouch. The house elf was proving to be quite the annoyance so maybe he would gain some peace if he gave him this copy of the locket. The copy would not last of course, and Tom will be looking forward to seeing the miserable little thing cry over how much he failed his previous master. Revenge was a dish best served cold after all.

Tom crouched down next to Fletcher, cast _Ennervate_ and obliviated him almost completely, erasing all his memories and turning him into what was essentially a _Janus Thickey Ward_ patient. He had to cut this loose thread completely as he could not have the thief come back to the house and rummage around it whenever he felt like it. Tom ignored the thief’s incoherent babbling and made his way to the elf, undoing the stun to then obliviate it yet again. He erased the morning’s events from the elf’s mind and estimated he had reached the limit of what he could manipulate without breaking the creature’s mind. The elf started blinking owlishly and Tom made sure to keep his wand safely in its holster while he drew Fletcher’s wand. 

“Why were you stealing from here? Who told you it was okay to steal this locket? Answer me bloody hell!” He yelled just as he felt the house’s eyes on them

“Mudblood making noise in the kitchen, Kreacher will have to put poison in his tea." the elf started muttering before it took in the scene and its eyes must have fallen on the fake locket in Fletcher's grasp because it screached "Master Regulus’ locket? What is the filthy Fletcher doing with Master’s locket?.”

Tom smiled. The elf fell for it hook, line and sinker.

* * *

The disastrous morning’s events served to disillusion Tom when it came to house elves and how much he had underestimated their potential danger and worth. This made him strive to end the hostility with the old creature who had started hitting Fletcher with a frying pan to punish him for trying to steal the locket. Tom had watched in slight amusement as the elf continued pounding the thief’s head who could do nothing but cry out almost childishly before he burst in tears. Kreacher had then dropped the pan and bowed half-heartedly at Tom, thanking him for his help in keeping the thief from taking any of the Black posessions. Tom had gone down on one knee and looked the elf in the eye as he promised to help him find a way to destroy it. The elf had scoffed and started muttering about guests not knowing their place but he never called Tom a filthy mudblood after that. Their interactions had also veered into the semi-pleasant kind which Tom was more than fine with. 

Dealing with Fletcher had been smooth sailing after that. The elf had popped out to its den or wherever it liked to spend its days and Tom had gone out and called the police from a public payphone using some change he had found in his own room. He’d acted as a concerned pedestrian who had seen a red-haired man babbling in the street and feared for both his own and the man’s safety. By the time the police had shown up—in the newer model of cars he couldn’t help but admire—and had taken the unconscious red haired man in custody, Tom had already received his lunch and was watching from the house windows to make sure all went according to plan. Afterward, he had decided to go look at the library, wand at the ready in case there were any other nasty surprises. 

His first few trips to the library had been without incident but Tom could not help but be disappointed as there were no dark arts books no matter how hard he looked. He’d asked Kreacher about it later as the elf had looked in a good enough mood and the little pest had started muttering about him being unworthy of something or other. However, the day after that, Tom started finding books about the dark arts all over the house. 

Starting a truce with the elf seemed to have worked well in his favor after all.

As his stay in the Black house went from days to weeks, Tom found himself reading multiple books on the dark arts and curses that Kreacher left out and had even managed to invent a new spell that let him conjure a small circle on any surface, allowing him to listen in on whatever sounds it would pick. He also started working on a spell that would induce a deep slumber filled with dreams he could manipulate as he wished, but was still only at the theory phase as he had no one to cast it at. 

The day an owl had arrived through the kitchen window with his Hogwarts list, Tom had felt like he had taken the most advantage of his time so far and started devising plans to gain Potter’s trust. He left that day for muggle London and bought himself books using some muggle money he had found stashed in Sirius Black's room and went for a haircut and ended up getting a neat undercut the hairdresser had said looked simply divine on him.

Now, as he showered and washed the soap-suds from his chest absently, Tom reconted the events of the past few weeks almost fondly and couldn’t help but think how he had actually enjoyed himself. The weather seemed to disagree with his sentiment, however, as when Tom stepped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he noticed the sky was grey and drab. 

Tom didn’t mind it however, no beating harsh sun meant the weather was perfect for the long walks shopping would probably require. Dropping down his towel Tom ignored the talking mirror which sounded both scandalised and enthused and quickly dressed in a pair of jeans he belted, black boots, a thin white shirt, and a leather jacket. He still did not understand why he had to get out of London to then get back to it, instead of just meeting the Weasleys and Potter in the Leaky Cauldron, but Dumbledore had been adamant about this and Tom was not about to get on his bad side barely a month in. 

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Tom walked into the green flames and stepped out in the Burrow living room. Looking at the clashing decor, Tom could with all sincerity say he had not missed the place at all.

He quickly cast a cleaning charm on his clothes and brushed his hair back with his fingers. There was an animated conversation in the kitchen and no one seemed to have heard him so he walked to the threshold and peaked his head into the rowdy room.

“What about me?” he heard an affronted cry and, carefully applying a charming lilt to his voice he started "Good morning. No one was in the living room so I just went ahead. I hope I’m not overstepping." The conversation died down completely and Tom noticed a redhead boy and bushy-haired girl jump out of their chairs. Potter and another Weasley had brandished their wands while Mrs. Weasley put a hand on her heart.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my name is Thomas…” The Weasley matriarch took one look at Tom's demure smile and shook her head. “Oh Tom, you gave us quite a scare. Put those wands away you two, Tom is a guest!” 

“I apologise. I should have shouted from the living room.” but Mrs. Weasley smiled tightly at him.

"Never mind that, it's just with everything going on, your arrival today slipped everyone's minds.”

As Tom stepped fully into the kitchen he heard a clutter and looked curiously at the source and found Potter staring at him with his mouth ajar. He looked Tom up and down before seeming to realise his mouth was hanging open and closed it with an audible click. It seemed Potter’s distrust had not diminished over time, Tom would work to change that soon. The bushy-haired girl next to him seemed to notice this as well as she was throwing him a confused glance. 

“Oh, Tom! Dear, oh dear, you're much too skinny, here come and sit down next to Bill—" Mrs. Weasley took him by the arm, gently pushing him into one of the chairs around the table. Right in front of Potter and next to the older Weasley. All eyes on the table were on him and he smiled sheepishly at whoever he made eye contact with. 

"Have you been eating well, dear?" With her hands on her hips, she put a stern expression on her face while she set up to warm what smelled like baked beans in a pot.

Tom wanted to scoff at her but he couldn’t of course so he turned his smile into a more self-assured charming one. "Yes, I have. The food wasn’t nearly as delicious and filling as your own of course. That onion soup has a special place in my heart now.” He politely pretended he didn’t notice her blush or the somewhat ridiculous and inappropriate small giggle she let out.

One could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Tom frowned, wondering if he had done something wrong before a redhead young witch he hadn’t noticed before jumped out of her chair.

“MUM, DID YOU JUST GIGGLE?” she erupted with a surprised shriek, and both Tom and Mrs. Weasley looked at her on the other end of the table. Tom’s eyes drifted to Potter in all his black hair, angry eyebrows, and green-eyed glory. The Chosen One was scowling at him even more than he had ever before. Tom winked conspiringly at him and he almost choked on his cereals, earning him a hissed “What is going on with you today Harry?” from the bushy-haired girl.

Potter couldn’t say anything however as Mrs. Weasley spluttered “Ginerva Weasley you will not shriek in the house while we have a guest.” she said in an even more shrill cry than her daughter. Tom winced at the possible damage his eardrums just suffered. She glared at her daughter who was about to say something and successfully shut her up before turning to Tom with a strained smile as she levitated him a plate of baked beans and eggs.

“So Tom, right? How was living in Grimmauld Place?” the older Weasley man sitting next to him asked.

Tom looked at him bemusedly and smiled hesitantly “Oh I’m Bill by the way and this is my fiancee Fleur. The kid over there with his mouth hanging open is my younger brother Ron and that’s my little sister Ginny and last but not least that's the brilliant Hermione.” The bushy-haired witch—Hermione, blushed furiously while the very striking blonde witch cooed and rubbed Bill’s hair. “Always so thoughtful _mon chéri d’amour_.” 

Tom chuckled lightly and rubbed at the back of his head, “Nice to officially meet you I’m Tom Jedusor. Thank you so much for letting me accompany you on your shopping trip, everyone.”

“Oh Tom, of course, we’d include you, with how dark the times are it’s best to do one’s shopping in groups and Albus had been right to invite you. Bill was also right to ask you about your stay at that house, it didn’t give you much trouble did it?” 

Tom smiled, “Nothing much, I stayed mostly in the drawing room reading books Professor Dumbledore had sent me and did a little bit of shopping in muggle London with the headmaster’s permission of course. I didn’t venture too far.” 

Bill smiled, “Muggle London must have been quite the opposite of what you were used to in the countryside wasn’t it? I knew my first time in London left me in awe.” Bill seemed to be doing his most to make conversation smooth and pleasant enough without diving too much and Tom appreciated that. Even if he would have appreciated eating his food in peace.

“Quite the shock yes, between that and being called a slur every time I came across that decaying piece of leather with legs, it was quite the adjustment.” Tom let some of his frustration with the house elf bleed into his tone and was not surprised to hear a snort or two from the table. However, he did not exactly expect the reproachful tone of that bushy-haired girl. Henrietta? Was that her name?

“Kreacher has been through years of abuse and brainwashing by his previous masters…”  
Oh Jolly, a house elf lover, guess Tom didn't have to learn her name just yet. He could just call her the house elf lover

“Oh come off it, Hermione, he’d been calling Jedusor a slur for all of his stay; he has the right to call him whatever he wants.” Ron turned to Tom with a smile, “Not the most inventive of insults mate, but it is a little bit funny,”

She scoffed. “That’s not the point Ron! Kreacher is not well, you can’t expect him to act in a civil manner, I was just telling Tom that so he doesn’t let his insults affect him or grow to hate him I—”

“Really Hermione? You’re actually defending him right now?” came Potter’s positively frosty question and the whole table seemed to come to a halt, exchanging wary eyes as Potter looked up from his plate and glared at Hermione. 

Tom noticed Mrs. Weasley out of the corner of his eye was about to speak, probably to defuse the tension but Potter beat her to the punch. “You’re really defending the piece of shite that betrayed Sirius.” 

Mrs. Weasley looked affronted. “Harry, mind your language, I will not—”

The house elf rights champion bit her lip before she got a frustrated look on her face interrupted the Weasley matriarch yet again. “You know it’s not like that Harry, Sirius treated him like absolute rubbish so of course, he went to the one place he could find appreciation when Sirius dismissed him. Maybe if Sirius had treated him better like I had urged him to so many times before...” she seemed to realise she had made some sort of blunder as her voice died off abruptly. 

“Enough! Both of you, that’s enough!” screamed Mrs. Weasley but Harry barely spared her a glance as he shot out of his chair looking absolutely livid. Tom’s insides churned for some reason at the sight. Potter’s magic was rushing out of him and it was immensely potent.

“You’re really blaming Sirius for his own death? Why don’t you blame me then? At least that would make more sense than blaming the one person who isn't here to defend himself. I WAS THE ONE STUPID ENOUGH TO BELIEVE VOLDEMORT’S LIES. I WAS THE ONE WEAK ENOUGH TO NOT KEEP HIM OUT OF MY MIND. SIRIUS WASN’T AT FAULT FOR DYING, IT WAS ME! ME AND THAT BLOODY TRASH OF A HOUSE ELF!” 

The house elf advocate's lips wobbled as tears gathered in her eyes and quite a few plates and cups broke because of Potter’s magic lashing out. The youngest Weasley put a tentative hand on Potter who was breathing harshly, his eyes looking wild and hurt. Potter took a deep breath and brushed the hand off of his elbow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up like this. I lost my appetite though, so I’m just gonna go get some air.” The other teen stepped out of the kitchen and into the backyard.

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know Harry still felt that way I-” the house elf sympathiser started crying and Ginny went next to her rubbing her arms. “It’s grief Hermione, it’s rarely something we can make sense of. All you and Ron can do as his closest friends is support him through it.” Bill said reassuringly. Fleur seemed to disagree as she sent daggers at the crying witch with her eyes.

“I could try to talk to him, I know what he's going through,” Tom said tentatively. Potter was fascinating and powerful and so full of anger, Tom knew this could be an opportune moment to start gaining a bit of his trust. 

Every set of eyes on the table turned at him and Weasley shook his head. “No offense, but I think if anyone should go it’s me, his best mate.”

Tom held his stare and wondered if he could sneakily cast a Confundus charm on the fool when Mrs. Weasley’s voice came out sounding tired and weary. “Let him go Ron. Tom would know the most about dealing with grief, poor thing.” 

Tom threw a grateful look at her before stepping out of the kitchen. It took him a minute but he finally found Potter on the other side of the yard, tearing grass with his fingers and staring at the distance.

“I’m sorry I blew up but I don’t wanna talk about it anymore Hermione,” Potter said as Tom came closer.

“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy.” Tom corrected and Potter let out a tired sigh.

“Go away Riddle, I’m not in the mood for emotional manipulation or whatever it is you want to do,” Potter grumbled. 

Tom decided to gamble a bit and said “Would it help if I told you I kicked that nasty house elf down the stairs?”

Potter’s hand stilled and he turned around, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Kreacher, he apparated in my room on my first night in the house so I stunned him and kicked him out, literally.”

Potter seemed to let out a snort despite his efforts at frowning and he bit his lips as if to stop himself from smiling.

“Can you imagine? I was about to go to bed after a whole day of exams and this filthy mess of a creature shows up in my room calling me a mudblood. I barely thought about it before I had him stunned, and instead of levitating him, I kicked him out.” Potter bit the inside of his cheek. “You used magic then? Despite Dumbledore telling you not to. Why am I not surprised?”

Tom shrugged, “I’m sure he knew I wasn’t going to fully abide by that rule. Also, I believe there would be an exception in case of a life or death situation after all.”

Potter scoffed and gave Tom an annoyed look. “Right, because you’re so vulnerable and Kreacher is not a frail old elf.”

“House elves are dangerous you know. Their magic can be quite powerful, and I make sure to never underestimate potential threats.”

Potter’s eyes widened for a bit and Tom couldn’t help but admire their particular shade of green. He quickly shook his head though.

“Look, Riddle, I made a vow to myself the night we met that I won’t antagonise you or go out of my way to mistrust you but I don’t think I could ever be friends with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Arrogant.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Manipulative.”

“I prefer calculating.”

“You’re posh and spoiled and you think you hide it but I can see how deep inside you want to scoff at everything.”

“Okay yes, you got me there as well.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment and Tom smiled. This was somewhat amusing. Potter pointed at his smile as if to prove a point. “See, that’s weird, you smiling like that? It makes me feel uneasy.”

“That could be your breakfast sitting wrong in your stomach or maybe just an after effect of my striking good looks.” Potter let out a surprised chuckle. 

“What is this? What are you doing now? I know you probably wanted to hex me every time I insulted you.”

“I actually didn’t feel the itch to do so even once, which is very surprising. And to answer your questions, I am being honest because I am trying to build if not a friendship then something of a partnership. We are both deeply connected to him and joining forces would mean hastily getting rid of old snake-face as you called him”

Potter's lips twitched again and Tom somehow found himself looking forward to making him struggle to hide a smile. “Right and I’m just supposed to stop wondering if every time you say something to me you’re being honest or _calculating_? Yeah, fat chance.”

“Maybe with time I can convince you. Although it seems my primary objective was achieved.

At Potter’s raised eyebrows, Tom added. “Your anger is all but forgotten now isn't it?” 

Potter scoffed and looked Tom up and down. “Where did you even get these clothes? You look like one of those American muggles in magazines.” 

After the absolute shit show that happened in the kitchen at the mention of Sirius Black, Tom reckoned that telling him the truth, in this case, would probably backfire. He wasn't wearing the jacket he'd found in Black's closet but he did transfigure its leather to this more modern style. Tom decided to play coy and winked at Potter earning him one of the expressions that vaguely amused him: the frustrated suspicious scowl. Before Potter could reply there was a shout. “Harry, Jedusor?”

The both of them turned to see the youngest Weasley with the long fiery red hair striding their way.

She looked at him first. “Your OWL results are here, mom ordered me to come get you both inside, as if I was some bloody owl. Oh, and she also said we’re leaving in ten minutes, Harry.”

“Thanks Ginny, and sorry for before…” but she just waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, everyone understands. Just try not to break my cup again, it always feels weird after mum repairs it.”

“That’s because some of the matter of the object is not properly reassembled. Repairing charms require solid concentration to be done properly.” Tom piped up.

Weasley regarded him with a calculating gaze before she smiled. “Oh, a proper little know-it-all, are ya?”

“I aim to please,” he replied easily enough with a smile and Potter snorted.

“Good to see you smiling Harry. Oh, and you’d also be happy to know that Phlegm stood up for you, really let Hermione have it. You see, 'Ermionne should understand 'arry was still greevingeuh and not aggravateuh tings” The youngest Weasley added in a horrible imitation of a French accent that would have had his French tutor turn red with anger. Potter winced and Tom hid a smile.

The three of them got back inside and the youngest Weasley bowed exaggeratedly at Mrs. Weasley “Mission fulfilled, mother. May I go get ready now?” her mother glared at her but acquiesced. Potter headed for his friend and the two of them started a hushed conversation after she hugged him. Tom decided to ignore all of that in favor of the regal owl waiting patiently by the windowsill in order to retrieve his letter.

He skipped the first couple of lines that were clearly just about the different passing and failing grades and their meanings and looked in on satisfaction at the row of O's next to every subject. He had aced all of his exams as expected. He took a couple of minutes to reread everything and let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m guessing you got all O’s?” Potter’s voice asked and Tom turned around with a smile to find all eyes on him. 

“Yes, I… I can’t wrap my head around it.” 

Weasley came over to him and looked over his shoulder at the letter. Tom tried not to snarl at him to give him personal space and pushed the letter closer to the lanky teen so he could read it without breathing down his neck. The annoying redhead let out an impressed whistle.

“Blimey’ you’re a proper smart one, aren’t you? Ten O’s. No Divination or Care of Magical Creatures though. Well gotta say you really saved yourself the hussle, Harry and I thought we could score easy grades in Divination but that had been a bust. Anyways congrats mate. Harry and I got at least an E in all the subjects that matter, right Harry?” Potter just nodded and turned back to talking with his other friend.

Tom wanted to reassure Weasley he was not about to steal his best mate or whatever this whole _Harry and I_ shtick was about but kept quiet only for Weasley's hand to slap his shoulder in a poor attempt at thanking him for his help in cheering up Potter. Tom did not appreciate it at all. 

“Okay everyone, the car has arrived. Don’t forget your capes." Mrs. Weasley had come back out wearing black robes and an ugly green bonnet. "Oh and congratulations Tom. For you to do so well after everything… Honestly, it’s nice to hear good news.” Mrs. Weasley looked through the window and Tom followed her gaze to a slick dark green car stationed in the road out. So the use of cars was standardised enough that they would be using it to travel just to Diagon Alley? Tom followed the other silently as he mused about it. After he had taken two Muggle Studies OWL with outdated material—enough so that someone from the 1940s with little basic knowledge of current advancement like him had gotten a perfect score in the second one—he was under the impression the wizarding knowledge of anything muggle was outdated and sparse. Maybe that did not apply to the ministry of magic. 

The Weasley parents settled themselves in the front seat next to the driver which had turned into a comfortable sofa for two, and Tom took in what was mostly an expansion charm on the inside of the car as the two Weasleys filed in first, followed by the house elf lover. He looked to Potter who still standing still and rolled his eyes when the other teen motioned for him to get in first. Was he afraid Tom would jump out of the car mid-travel if left next to the door? Or did he want to have a way of escape in case Tom decided to start throwing hexes inside the car? Either way, Tom made a show of sighing heavily, tipping his head patronisingly and got in next to the house elf activist who smiled tightly at him.

Potter got in, closed the door and the driver set off. Tom heard Bill Weasley and his fiancee shout goodbye and good luck to them and settled himself in the comfortable seat that had shifted to accommodate five passengers and gave each one of them enough space to settle comfortably. Weasley who was sprawled a little too comfortably on the seat broke the peaceful silence. “It’s brilliant how that dad managed to get us to use this car again, isn’t it.”

“Yes well don’t get too used to it, it’s just special circumstances because Harry is with us. He needs maximum security and we will also be getting reinforcements once we arrive at the Leaky Cauldron.” came Mr. Weasley’s reply. Tom glanced at Potter and saw that he was unexpectedly frowning. The chosen one seemed to really not like people fussing over him.

They drove in silence for a little while with little murmurs of conversation from the siblings and their parents and the surroundings changed from the beautiful countryside to the urban jungle that was London. “It’s really quite surprising how the ministry is using muggle technology paired with Magic. I didn’t think the two mixed well in general. This car is quite astounding.” Tom mused out loud.

The house elf activist looked about to chime in, but it was Mr. Weasley who turned around, his previous serious demeanor completely replaced with excitement that was very childlike. 

“Oh Tom, it really is, isn't it? And you’re quite right in that a lot of magic does not mesh well with muggle technology if only you knew the number of times I had a spelled washing machine go rogue on me.” Mrs. Weasley seemed to have hit him in the side with an elbow and Mr. Weasley quickly amended “It was part of my previous job you see, and I came across many enchanted muggle objects that had somehow acquired a will of their own.” 

“Yeah, like running away to live in the forbidden forest,” mumbled Weasley just loud enough for the ones in the backseat to hear and Potter hid a laugh with a cough. 

“That’s absolutely fascinating, Mr. Weasley. Did you ever look further into it? Usually, sentience in an object requires complicated spellwork and even then the most advanced form of it would be talking mirrors and magical portraits and in a lesser manner brooms and wands. The first two usually mimic someone’s personality, manner of speaking, and in the case of portraits are imbued with magic and memories. The latter two can have a sort of attachment to wizards, usually, but to think the addition of electricity or the car motors into the mix could result in the sentience of a car or a washing machine? This could be revolutionary!” Tom could see how something like this could be used to his advantage whether for now or in his quest to become minister of magic. He needed to look into this more closely. The help of someone who used to work with such magic was primordial, so Tom decided to show his honest enthusiasm and of course amplify it up by about a hundred folds.

Mr. Weasley had managed to turn himself almost completely in his seat to the apparent annoyance of his wife. “You are completely right again, I didn’t even think of it that way but just like Albus said you are absolutely brilliant.” 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really sir. I just find muggle technological advancement fascinating and so quick paced we would remiss not to take advantage of it. Could I maybe ask for your help in supplying whatever information you can on the subject? Perhaps when you are not busy you could write to me about it. I would again be remiss not to take advantage of someone so knowledgeable on the matter.”

Mr. Weasley looked to be preening as he puffed his chest and his ears turned red. “Oh Tom, that would be my honor. I would ask you in return to keep me updated on any of your findings.”

“Blimey, first mum and now dad? This guy just wants to charm the whole family, doesn’t he? Stay away from him, Ginny.” Wesley said before his sister hit him in the arm audibly. 

“Stay away from my life Ronald.”

Tom ignored the squabble and smiled at Mr. Weasley. “Of course sir.” 

“I never thought of it that way, but you could be on to something Tom. If you need help with research or anything of the sort I would gladly help you.” said the house elf advocate. Tom turned to her with a smile. “That would be great, thank you, Hermione. Are you a half-blood or a muggle-born?”

She frowned at him for a little as if wondering where the question came from. It was Weasley who answered in a less than usual friendly manner. “She’s a muggle-born and she’s the most brilliant of our year, hell our generation, You’d be lucky to have her help.” Oh, so the little idiot thought he was being prejudiced? Or was he just jealous? It didn’t matter. 

Tom smiled “Oh that’s fantastic! My grandfather always said us muggle-borns had great potential. There’s so much in the wizarding world that is stagnant and frankly outdated and we can always bring a fresh perspective.” 

Her smile lit up her whole face. “That is exactly what I think! A lot of the traditions and rituals are of course integral to the wizarding community’s identity but I doubt throwing your child around until they use accidental magic is something that should be encouraged or ignored. Not to mention the atrocious manner with which creatures are treated. ”

Right, so she was back to being called by her first name in Tom’s mind. She could, after all, prove to be very useful. Her being a close friend of Potter meant that befriending her and treating her right would go well with the bespectacled teen.

“Yes, I believe we will have a lot to discuss, I’m looking forward to it. I’m also curious to hear about a lot of the current muggle advancements.”

“Oh? Right, your grandfather... Harry did tell us about that situation. I would gladly help then.”

“We have arrived.” The driver that had been silent the entire drive announced, effectively cutting off whatever Weasley was about to say with a frown. The car had stopped right in front of the Leaky Cauldron and Tom noticed that while the street had changed quite a bit, the pub had stayed very much the same.

“I believe we should only take about two hours to complete our shopping. Ah good he is here I see.” Mr. Weasley first said to the driver before spotting someone through the car window. Potter looked as well and his somewhat irritated frown turned into a smile before opening the car door.

Tom followed curiously and was subjected to the sight of what was clearly an adult half-giant man giving a painful-looking and sounding hug to Potter. 

_Oh dear Merlin, not him._

“We didn’t realise you were the security ‘reinforcements’!” Potter sounded happy to see the oaf and Tom wondered yet again if befriending Potter was really worth the trouble.

“Just like the ol’ times eh? The ministry wanted ter send a group of aurors but Dumbledore wasn’t havin’ it. said ter trust me an’ that I was more than enough.” He puffed his chest and Tom rolled his eyes. Merlin help him, the oaf was even more of an annoyance in his sixties.

“Let’s get goin’ then. After yeh Molly, Arhur.” Hagrid’s eyes flitted over him for a bit before he did a double-take. “Blime’ yeh look just like ‘im don’t yeh. Dumbledore told me abou’ yeh o’ course but still…” He trailed off looking conflicted by his appearance. 

_Yeah well the feeling is mutual, you big troll_

“I s’pose it don’ matter much now, ‘s in the past. I heard he died in a Death Eater raid, no one deserves that. Sorry fer yeh loss,” He added before turning away looking very uncomfortable and Tom found himself relieved he wouldn’t have to interact with him.

“What was that about?” asked Weasley.

“Jedusor’s grandfather was in Hogwarts around the same time as Hagrid, remember I told you.” came Potter’s patient response. Weasley nodded and Hermione gave Tom a commiserating look. The youngest Weasley smiled slightly, Tom returned it.

The state of the pub was quite different from anything Tom had seen before, even when there was a full-blown muggle world war going on the wizards had lived on in ignorance and would come to get a drink and shop at Diagon Alley as if a bomb dropping on their head wouldn’t kill them in seconds. Wizards and witches apparently deemed Voldemort and his followers scarier than bomb threats. Tom internally scoffed at that.

Diagon Alley seemed to be in an even more morose state than the pub as they all stepped through the parted wall. When before the alley would have been bustling with activities and families window shopping merrily, now it seemed like every witch and wizard strode with purpose, only stopping to buy what they needed before moving on. The colorful window shops were now almost fully covered with purple Ministry posters. Those all seemed to be copies of the security measures he had found in every issue of the Prophet he had read weeks ago. There were also what looked to be wanted posters of Voldemort's followers: Death Eaters. A quite stupid name if you asked Tom but he supposed power didn’t account for taste.

He did however familiarise himself with some of their faces and looked on curiously at the black-haired witch glaring haughtily in one poster as Potter had paused slightly on it. Bellatrix Lestrange. The name sounded familiar. The memory popped in his head as he remembered reading the name on the tapestry depicting the Black family tree back in the Black house. She would have been the heir of Black had Sirius Black not handed the title to his godson and Kreacher bemoaned constantly about it.

He missed whatever happened with some seller in front of Flourish and Botts and heard Mrs. Weasley say something to her husband in a soothing manner as she worriedly checked the lists sent by Hogwarts. 

“We should start with Madam Malkin, Hermione, Harry and Ron need new robes and Tom as well of course.” 

“Molly, don’t you think it would be ridiculous to all go to Madame Malkin’s shop? The four of them can go with Hagrid while the rest of us go buy their books.”  
Tom thought the idea was much more practical and it took a little while for Mrs. Weasley but she seemed to hesitantly get on board with the suggestion after Hagrid assured her he would keep an eye on them. Tom doubted he would need the protection of a half-giant with not even a third-year’s knowledge of magic but he supposed he could use his strength to knock an attacker out rapidly. Tom turned to Mr. Weasley and handed him a small handful of galleons. “For my books, my grandfather had a bit of gold hidden away.” 

Mr. Weasley looked about to object but seemed to reconsider as he saw Tom’s resigned and proud look. “Of course, I will return the change to you after.”

The other four were already on the move and Hermione turned to see where he was. He jogged a little and settled at her side as they walked to Madame Malkin’s further down the alley. 

“I reck’n we’d be a bit tight if I were to go in with yeh, I’ll just stay posted here.” 

Tom and the three friends entered the boutique together and while it seemed empty at first glance, as soon as the door closed behind them, they could hear a voice coming from behind a row of robes. Tom almost immediately placed the posh accent as one from a pureblood. Potter, Weasley and Hermione all seemed to tense at the voice and he decided he should also be wary of whoever this petulant teen was. Even if said teen sounded harmless enough as he whined about being too old for his mummy to come shopping with him. Maybe they all tensed because they hated whiny brats just as much as Tom did. 

“Careful where you put that needle, please!” cried out before he walked out. He had pale blond hair and a pointed face with an annoyed sneer on it. Well if that wasn’t a Malfoy in the flesh. Tom had studied five years with Abraxas Malfoy and the family resemblance was there, just like with Potter and his relative Fleamont Potter who was quite famous for his popular Sleakeasy potion.

“If you’re wondering what this nasty smell is Mother, I believe it’s from the mudblood that just came in,” Malfoy said with a smug smile as if proud of himself for his own joke. Tom discreetly brought out his wand and hid it behind his jeans. Potter and Weasley were less subtle about it as they brandished theirs with anger. “Oh and what’s this? Did you get yourself a boyfriend Granger? And a black eye? Did your mudblood boyfriend hit you like the animal your kind are?” Malfoy sneered.

“That kind of talk is unnecessary and I will not have you fight in my shop either." Madam Malkin interjected looking nervous.

“Just drop it, he’s not worth it…” Hermione said.

“Yeah, as if you would even dare to use your wands outside of scho—” Malfoy was about to turn around to face them but fell straight on his face. Weasley let out a surprised guffaw and Potter chuckled before he seemed to realise what went on and turned a frown in Tom’s direction. Hermione seemed to have come to the same conclusion and was mimicking Potter's look. Tom adopted his most innocent I-did-not-just-cast-a-silent-Jelly-Legs-Curse smile and looked on in amusement as Malfoy struggled to get up. He did not appreciate being dismissed as someone’s boyfriend or being compared to animals.

Malfoy cried out in pain as he seemed to have bitten his tongue as he fell and blood was spilling from his mouth. “Mover, my tongue.” Malfoy looked back at his mother who had hurried to his side and helped him get up with as much poise as one could in such a situation.

She cast a spell that seemed to stop the bleeding and then cleaned the blood from his chin and turned on them looking furious.

“Which one of you did this to him? You’re not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts; you will not get away with it. Believe me I will--”

Harry stepped forward and faced the pale-faced woman with a defiant smirk. “You will do what? None of us did anything, your son is just clumsy. Maybe he shouldn’t be so careless on his feet.” Potter said with a voice and tone Tom could only describe as mockingly patronising. “And even if we had done anything, how exactly are you going to push for anything to be done about it? Your husband is in Azkaban, so I doubt you have much leeway with the ministry.” This time it was Malfoy who brandished his wand at Potter and snarled. “Do not speak of my father you—” but his mother brought his hand down calmly.

“It does not matter Draco. I see being doted on by Dumbledore has made you even more arrogant than you were before. You think yourself invincible now? ”

Harry spread his arms around “Well I don’t see Dumbledore here, do your worse. I suppose you could sic on us your deranged Death Eater of a sister? Although she might be too busy kissing Voldemort’s arse to bother.” While Malfoy’s mother had stayed impassive before, her face seemed to shift in slight disgust at this particular jab. “In any case, I don’t see how you could ever hold us accountable for something none of us did, especially considering the ones likely to be arrested are you lot for serving under Voldemort.” Potter continued and Tom was fascinated by just how mean, vicious, and utterly effective at hitting below-the-belt the Chosen one could get. Tom bit his lips at the start of a smile: Harry Potter was absolutely fascinating.

“I see you are just as obnoxious and arrogant as dear Sirius.” Tom frowned at the mention of Sirius Black, this was not going to end well. “Perhaps that will be your fall as well and you’ll join him soon enough.” Narcissa Malfoy said with a sneer, and predictably Potter raised his wand.

“Harry, don’t! You’ll only get in trouble,” Hermione whispered.

Madame Malkin seemed to not know what exactly to do and had settled apparently on trying to act normally and started shortening Malfoy’s left sleeve, only for him to cry out dramatically despite her not touching him with anything, and decide he did not want the dress robes after all. Tom considered him for a moment as he looked at his left arm. He had read death eaters had a tattoo on their left forearm that symbolized their servitude and ownership by Voldemort. Tom smiled and said in a pleasant enough tone just as the mother and son passed next to him. “Goodbye, and be sure to take a deep breath before you get tortured, I heard it’s somewhat helpful,” he said, and Madame Malkin who seemed to have been sighing in relief tensed up again. Weasley and Granger looked at him in shock while Potter gave him his signature frown.

As he predicted Malfoy stopped in his tracks, shoulders taut, and turned on him with an angry glower. His mother seemed to control her emotions better but she was just as surprised and looked as if rubbish was addressing them. 

“Ignore the filth Draco,” she left the shop expecting her son to follow behind her. Malfoy was still glaring at him so Tom added. “Oh well, I was just saying it must be hard facing the full brunt of the consequences of your father’s failure last summer. He is in prison now so Voldemort really has no one to take his anger on directly. Does he switch between you and mommy or did he maybe find some different, more vicious way of torturing you both?” Tom affected the same nasty mocking tone Potter had but he added a bit more of his own cruelty into the words. Weasley let out an awed “Bloody hell…”

“How dare you! You filthy mudblood motherf—” Malfoy’s face had gone even paler and he was shaking with what was either rage or fear as he drew his wand at Tom. His mother came back into the shop and decided to drag her son by the arm. “Draco why are you shaking?” they heard her ask as they left the shop but Malfoy ignored her as he glared daggers at Tom who just smiled condescendingly at him. This Malfoy boy seemed to be just as proud and weak-willed as Abraxas had been. Not very surprising.

The silence in the boutique was heavy and Tom turned back to see Weasley looking at him with wonder and admiration. “Mate, you let him have it! Merlin’s bollocks though, you were really laying it on him with the you-know-who bit too. Did you guys see him? The nasty little ferret was shaking.” Potter nodded looking very much displeased and Hermione seemed to share the sentiment. Weasley looked at his two friends’ faces, gave Tom a pat on the shoulder as if to say good luck and turned to Madam Malkin. “I’ll go get fitted first, merlin that made my day,” he added with a small laugh.

Madam Malkin seemed to be in a right state as she followed Weasley to the little podium. 

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” Potter said although he did not sound as angry as Tom thought he looked. 

Tom rolled his eyes. “I saw you completely eviscerate them with words, I know you’re not in need of anyone to fight for you, believe me. I don’t appreciate being called a mudblood however, or an abusive animalistic person who hits women,” he said tersely. He was being mostly honest as well. His initial usage of the silent hex had been as revenge. Hermione deduced as much. “Yes, that explains why you used the jelly leg curse on him. Which I think was highly foolish and against the rules, you’re underage and—” 

“Actually I’m seventeen, that was why when I disapparated as I escaped the death eaters, the trace didn’t activate." he interrupted feeling annoyed. Potter tsk'd but Tom carried on. "Listen, I realise it was not well thought out and could have landed me in trouble but not only had he insulted me, but he also made fun of you. You’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming to me even though we’ve just only met each other and I will never regret standing up for a friend.” Hermione seemed to soften significantly at this even if her expression turned exasperated. 

“Ugh, you boys and your act-now-think-later attitudes. I can defend myself just fine and handle myself quite well, thank you very much. So next time, don’t play at the knight in shining armour. That goes for you too Harry and Ron.” she added turning to Potter who was all but scoffing at Tom’s reply to Hermione.

“Me? What did I do?” Potter’s eyebrows rose up and he looked confused.

“Grabbed your wand as soon as he insulted me. I’m not affected by his words. You both should know that, and I did punch him that one time, remember? I can handle him. So just like you said to Tom I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.” she added with a smile and Potter shook his head, amusement evident on his face. “Fine, fine but let’s not veer off the subject. Why did you tell him that bit at the end?”

Weasley seemed to have finished and joined them “I thought I heard my name, what is it? Oh, and one of you should go to her. Careful though I think the barmy witch must have thought I was a bloody pincushion with how many times she stabbed me with pins.” Hermione shook her head with amusement and left to look for robes.

“So what are we talking about?” Weasley asked curiously as he looked from Tom to Potter.

“I was just about to say I never thought Potter could be so vicious. I thought he was a goody-two-shoes.” Tom hoped he conveyed the message well enough with his eyes that they would talk later. Potter rolled his eyes but seemed to get the message. Weasley snorted and put an arm around Potter. “Oh please, Harry can pack quite a punch even if he doesn’t look like it with those wiry glasses. A menace this one, both with his spells and his words so watch out, the Chosen One is not to be messed with.” Weasley seemed to talk with a fond and teasing tone and Potter smiled at him and elbowed him in the stomach. It somehow escalated into a good-natured scuffle. Ah yes, teenage boys and their tendency to making him wish he could obliviate himself. He was glad when Hermione returned and he could go buy himself new robes.

Madame Malkin had truly been out of sorts as she struggled with simple tasks, but they all eventually bought their robes and left the shop. Hagrid had dismissed the Malfoys once Potter asked him about them and they were all soon joined by the rest of the Weasleys who laid out the rest of their itinerary.

Potter and Weasley didn’t buy anything from the apothecary and when Tom asked, Potter curtly said they wouldn’t be taking Potions NEWTS and Tom raised his brows but remained silent. He thought Weasley bragged about how they all got an E at least in every important subject. Was Tom wrong then, did Potter not want to be an Auror after all? Or maybe whoever took over from Slughorn only accepted O students. Tom dismissed the train of thought as he went ahead and bought what he needed along with Hermione and the youngest Weasley. 

When they were finally done they all headed to a joke shop owned by the Weasley twins. He rolled his eyes at the stupid advertisement of some magical constipation inducing pills they named u-no-poo even as Potter and Weasley chuckled heartily. He shared a look with Hermione who had also rolled her eyes at the pun.

 _Stupid teen boys and their poo humor._

Tom pretty much tuned out everyone else after that, he was not interested in the slightest in these joke products.

The shop was very popular and very packed so he was soon separated from everyone else, and he was more than glad for it. The products sold were much more interesting than he had thought, however, as he looked at the different potions and gadgets displayed. He grabbed a pair of ‘extendable ears’ that looked like flesh color strings and read the box with interest. He recognised the charm that had probably been used to achieve this result as he had used it as the basis for his own eavesdropping spell. These particular Weasleys were somewhat impressive. Having one of these as well as one of those interesting Decoy Detonators could prove potentially useful.

“Oh is this the bloke dad was just raving to us about then?” a voice near him asked and Tom ignored it until he heard Potter’s voice reply. “Yes, sorry guys I just need to talk to him about something.” 

He felt an arm tentatively touch his elbow and turned slowly. “Oh your friend seems to be interested in our very special extendable ears and Decoy Detonators, those two are one galleon two sickles mate.” one of the twins said. The one who hadn’t spoken before Tom guessed.

Tom threw two galleons at him and said with a smile “Thanks, and keep the change.” 

The twin caught the galleon easily and tipped his head. “Very grateful to be doing business with you, come on George let’s let these two have their private talk, Harry here looks impatient,” he said.

The other twin threw a wink at Potter. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.” and went back into the crowd of customers.

“Let’s step out for a bit, we’d have more privacy outside than in here,” Potter said and Tom wondered what was so important he was insisting this much. Maybe the other teen just wanted to ask how he knew so much about Voldemort or, he could’ve come to the same conclusion Tom about Malfoy. 

The two of them turned around and headed for the exit when Tom caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a pointed face going down the alley from the shop window, stopping for a little bit as he looked at the jokes shop then carried on. “Malfoy seems to have left his mommy behind. Big boy business you think?” he turned to Potter who should have seen him as well. The bespectacled boy bit his lip and seemed to be considering something before he shook his head.

“I’ll follow him. You go tell Ron and Hermione not to worry,” he said as he started bringing out a bundle of cloth from inside his clothes. Tom grabbed his arm “I am not letting you go alone. If something happens to you and I was the last one seen with you Dumbledore will have my hide.”

Potter sneered at him. “Of course, you only think of yourself. Why the hell should I let you come with me?”

“I can cast a perfect disillusionment charm Potter. I don’t think the chosen one can his presence in Knockturn Alley and not stand out.” Potter bit his lip and seemed to relent, shoving what looked like a cape under his shirt and on his stomach.

“Fine but cast it now.” Tom nodded and cast the charm on both him and Potter. He cast it at maximum potency so both he and Potter would not be able to see themselves anymore. He felt an arm brush against him and towards the door and followed.

“Bloody hell Riddle, is this what a disillusionment charm is actually supposed to be like? It wasn't like this the other times I had cast it on me, I can’t see you or myself.” He heard Potter mutter as the two of them went down Diagon alley.

“Yes, very few are capable of casting it this perfectly, however, so you’re welcome.” Potter let out a chuckle. “Merlin you’re such an arrogant git. Come on, he most definitely went to Knockturn alley as you said.” 

Tom followed Harry through the dark stairs that led to the alley he had spent a lot of his time in last year and stopped Potter with a small Hey once he saw Malfoy. . “He’s at Borgin and Burkes, the shop right in front of us.” Tom said as he couldn’t point with his hand. He brought out the extendable ears he’d just bought and threw the flesh-colored strings at the door before he settled down. He heard Potter crouch down next to him. “Shite yeah, good idea,” he said. Tom shushed him and they both listened to a very interesting yet confusing conversation before Malfoy left and his cape almost hit Tom in the face.

Tom waited until he was gone up the stairs and took off his disillusionment. “Wait here and keep on listening.” Potter hissed something at him but he ignored it and entered the familiar shop.

Nothing much had changed in the shop except Burke had probably died now and the man manning the station must have been Borgin.

“Good day,” he said in the arrogant pureblood tone he used with Burke before to earn himself a semblance of respect. Burke always served purebloods the best and treated everyone else with heavy disdain, so it wouldn't be too big of a leap to believe his partner would be the same. Borgin was mumbling about something right in front of what looked like a vanishing cabinet. He jumped a bit in surprise at the bell sound and turned to Tom with a glare. 

“I’ll ask for you if I settle on anything I like.” Tom said dismissively as he perused the various objects. Borgin looked about to say something but Tom turned his back on him and tried to look at the objects that Malfoy could have pointed at when he was hidden from his and Potter’s view. He carefully calculated the angle that would be hidden to them from their vantage point on the street. It was either a set of very expensive beautification potions or the cursed object section and Tom hummed deep in thought. Malfoy wanted a cursed object, one that could prove fatal if that bracelet on the shriveled hand was any indication. It had been there during Tom’s time as well and he had done some basic research on it. 

“Nothing interesting in here, it seems the quality has gone downhill from when Burkes was the one manning the shop. Think on getting better variety will you?” he scoffed and left the shop with a sneer, not letting time for Borgin to speak.

He followed the trail of flesh-colored strings that were being rolled back and disillusioned himself once he stepped out of sight from the shop.

“What the hell was that for? You went there like you had a plan and then all you did was act like a pureblood prat and storm out.” hissed Potter.

Tom rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “What I did was act like the type of customer he would not get immediately suspicious of and throw out. I looked at where Malfoy would have pointed and noticed a cursed bracelet I had read about. Which leads me to speculate that while Malfoy wouldn’t have necessarily pointed at that bracelet he was talking about an object in that specific area which is most likely where Borgin displays objects that would curse-at-the-touch. Now let us get back, the others will start to get worried. I will tell you the rest when we get back to the Burrow.” 

Potter agreed and the two of them made their way back to the shop, making sure to sneak past Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley who seemed to have noticed their disappearance. Potter lied and said they had been in the backroom and thankfully Granger and Weasley vouched for them and supplied they maybe just didn’t check properly. 

Potter went to talk in whispers with his friends and Tom mulled over everything he surmised and wondered what exactly to tell Potter. 

Potter knew Tom was brilliant as he had seen Voldemort's teenage self in all its diary possessing glory and thought it meant even he a different timeline Tom was dangerous and treacherous. Now, though, he had seen how Tom could help him, both with snooping around and in getting him sound knowledge and conclusions.

* * *

The way back to the Burrow was filled by the three friends whispering in a contemplative then somewhat heated conversation, all the while Potter’s two friends would throw Tom a calculating look here in there. He ignored them and talked to the youngest Weasley who turned out to be quite the jokester and prided herself in casting a really mean bat bogey hex. Tom oohed and aahed accordingly as she recounted her exploits in making Hogwarts boys who crossed her sorry and then the two of them discussed her upcoming O.W.Ls. Tom supposed she was pleasant enough until she had tried to have a conversation with him about quidditch as she flipped her hair in what he assumed was a flirtatious manner. Tom had just smiled politely and after five minutes said he’s not up to date with Quidditch and instead spoke with Mr. Weasley on muggle technology when the conversation died down.

Mrs. Weasley insisted he stayed for lunch and dinner but he politely turned down the dinner invitation citing how tired he was but agreed to a late lunch with the rancorous family. 

It was when he excused himself, said goodbye to everyone, and headed for the fireplace that Potter grabbed his arm with a hand that felt really warm on his bare skin after he had taken off his jacket. Tom could somehow feel the calluses from writing and probably Quidditch on Potter’s hand and smiled at him.

Everyone else was either in the kitchen or out in the yard but Tom still cast a silent anti-eavesdropping charm around them and faced Potter. “To prevent unwanted listeners.” He explained at the bemused stare he got. Potter nodded and sighed. “You said you had something more to tell me?”

Tom considered one final time if his decision to be so honest was not too risky and decided it wasn’t as he saw Potter’s eager stare.

“Keep in mind these are all suppositions, more than likely to be true but still not confirmed.” Potter just urged him on, looking impatient and Tom suppressed an evil smile at the suspense he was building and how it was driving Potter up the walls. “Malfoy was most likely asking Borgin about a vanishing cabinet. When I got into the shop the man was still right in front of it.”

“A vanishing cabinet? Like the one Fred and George threw Montague in last year? But why? What use could a vanishing cabinet be to Malfoy? Is he planning to throw someone in it and make them trapped?” 

“I’d wager he wanted to use the vanishing cabinet's primary function which is to basically transport whatever is inside it from one cabinet to another similar cabinet that needs to be connected to it or created in tandem with it.” Tom ended the other's silly ramblings. Potter looked at him with something like awe then quickly looked back down as he thought things through.

“But what’s so special about these cabinets? Why not just apparate or use a Portkey?” Potter asked and Tom thought about it for a bit.

“Well, I believe two vanishing cabinets can bypass all wards. However, you are right about the Portkey. Maybe he wants to use it to go past Portkey wards although those are very rare as they are not nearly as simple to impose as apparition wards. In fact, I'm not certain even Hogwarts has anti Portkey wards, but again don't quote me on that. So wherever he is planning to use the vanishing cabinet for is to gain access to a heavily warded place, perhaps a Gringotts bank vault?” 

The awed look on Potter’s face was back again and Tom felt himself preen a little. It was much more pleasant to receive that look than the suspicious glare he'd grown used to, despite how amusing that was.

“You’re like a walking library, aren’t you? Merlin am I really glad you’re on our side. Imagine if two brains like yours worked together? I think only Professor Dumbledore and maybe Hermione could keep up then. Although Voldemort is missing a few of his marbles, if you ask me, so you'd be doing most of the heavy lifting.” Potter seemed to be excited and was letting his guard down as he talked. 

“So to recapitulate: Malfoy wants a curse-at-the-touch object to be set aside and a vanishing cabinet to be fixed so he could bypass really strong and secure wards. Oh, and I saw you frown at his left arm back at Madam Malkins, and that comment you made at the end too about Voldemort punishing Malfoy and his mother with long torture. You suspect he’s gotten the mark, right?

Potter was definitely going to be brilliant by his side as Tom ruled over Wizarding Britain. He smiled at Potter. “Yes. Although all of this, of course, is but speculation on my part and there is much more we don’t know yet.” he reminded but Potter beamed at him.

“This is more than enough for now. I hate to admit it, but without you around I would have still followed Malfoy but all that would’ve resulted in was more questions. That partnership you brought up this morning? I’m in.” he put his hand out and Tom stared at it for a second before shaking it.

He felt Potter tighten his hold. “Just don’t fuck me or the people I care about over, I won’t ask you not to lie to me—since I think you’re definitely incapable of not lying at least once an hour—but share with me anything that’s important and I will do the same.” Tom tightened his grip as well and let out the predator smile he knew scared his grandmother. Potter’s eyes widened.

“Deal, and in exchange I expect you to continue going along with the lies I will tell to gain more standing and tell me if there is any ‘adventure’ you’re about to go on no matter how small or insignificant you might consider it.”

Potter stared at his mouth for a beat before he smiled back at him with heat in his stare. “Deal. Voldemort won’t know what the fuck is gonna hit him.” 

Tom let out a startled laugh and stepped to the fireplace, waving a hand at the youngest Weasley who had been looking at him and Harry with a calculating gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah Harry screams and is sassy and mean and vicious when he insults people he hates and ugh I love him... I had him sassy from the get-go and thought I was overdoing it then I read the scene with Narcissa and was like omg yes my sassy baby yes!! So yeah expect Harry to hit below the belt and make it hurt for days. 
> 
> Tom, of course, is the same, and while he took a risk with Malfoy he knew Draco wouldn't share something like that with anyone else. So now Harry is semi-obsessed with Draco and will probably still be dropping cutlery or choking on his breakfast whenever he sees Tom looking hot and Draco will probably stay awake most nights thinking of his issues and Tom and Harry. 
> 
> Chaotic gays am I right?
> 
> Hermione is astute and has a good bullshit detector but not usually with pretty boys as we saw with Lockhart so yeah Tom gets through the net, I get her tho. Ginny, I think of her as fiery, kind, smart, and very into boys and dating as she should, her thing with Tom is that he intrigues her but also kinda stirs something uneasy in her, yall know why.
> 
> I decided ultimately to switch back to Harry starting from the train since it spoke more to me, so look forward to that for the next chapter. Thank you for reading and if there's anything that's unclear or you wanna ask anything more about the story dm me on Tumblr. Some of you already did and it was such a delight.


	6. Arms and a Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is chaotic conversations, broken noses, boils on feet, and way too much blood in the mouth for Harry's tastes. All of this before even the welcoming feast? Bugger Harry's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

Harry spent the rest of the summer break after the trip to Diagon Alley alternating between trying to relax and thinking about what exactly Malfoy was up to. Sometimes in the early mornings as he took a walk in the yard or as he sat on the sofa in the living room he would also think of just how mental it was that Tom Marvolo Riddle was somehow his ally. And to think Harry had been dreading his arrival at the Burrow ever since he’d received word from Dumbledore that the other teen was joining them for their shopping trip. 

Now, while he was still on the fence concerning a lot of issues when it came to Riddle, Harry couldn’t help but be amazed by him and how different he was from Voldemort. It had started when Harry’d noticed the leather jacket, fashionable jeans, and the new haircut which all screamed popular teen Hollywood Star.

Then Riddle had surprised him with his directness and his sense of humour. Telling Harry he used magic on Kreacher had definitely not been something he’d expected, not to mention how he used the fact that he'd kicked the elf as an icebreaker. A satisfying image that Harry still thought about from time to time with a smile. Between that and the absolute verbal beatdown Riddle had given Malfoy, Riddle proved himself to be way more amusing than Harry had given him credit.

The last bit Riddle had added at the end had left Malfoy almost shaking in rage and apprehension. Harry realised now why Dumbledore so quickly estimated Riddle to be worth the hassle. The other teen could somehow predict and assume Voldemort’s actions with as much accuracy as Harry himself who had a fifteen years old magical connection with the snake-faced git. 

Lucius Malfoy had not only failed spectacularly in the ministry by not securing the prophecy before it was destroyed but he had also gotten himself arrested. And while Harry thought Lucious would prefer his stay at Azkaban to being subjected to the Cruciatus curse repeatedly, Voldemort most likely needed an outlet for that rage. Who else to punish then, but the man’s family. The fact that Malfoy had looked like a deer in headlights when Riddle mentioned this only proved it was the case. Malfoy, who had most likely been given the mark. 

If only his two best friends believed him when it came to that. 

Harry scoffed as he fixed his pillow and settled back down on his bed. This brought him to another point of dissatisfaction he had felt this summer. He lay on his bed, glad he was away from Ron’s snoring to think on things properly, before their return to Hogwarts in the morning.

Both Ron and Hermione had been dismissive of his worries about Malfoy and even acted dubious and almost reproachful (in the case of Hermione) about his potential initiation into the ranks of Voldemort’s close followers. The two of them thought it ridiculous that Voldemort would let a teenager join his ranks as if they were the ones who dreamt of him for two years and not Harry. Try as he might, though, his worries and thoughts were met with nothing but somewhat exasperated complacence.

Harry, meanwhile, had been forced to listen to them complain for a whole day about how he chose to go with a complete stranger and not even inform them. He had tried to explain how the other boy had refused to let him go alone and that they had been careful but the other two were still not happy about it.

Ron argued he’d been Harry’s best mate since they’d been eleven and that they had so much experience with being inconspicuous and sneaky and how he even had “two sets of extendable ears with me, so it would have helped you better.” While Hermione seemed to be most upset about how the two of them could have been in big trouble if their disguises were found (little did she know they were even invisible to themselves). She also only blushed at Ron’s comment that she would have definitely helped him have a clearer idea of things. “Tom was probably unused to such a thing as well, so having someone with more experience as Ron mentioned would have probably helped you learn more than you did and maybe you wouldn’t have so many questions.” she’d said as Ron nodded sagely. 

Harry had wanted to tell them everything then, that Jedusor wasn’t just some innocent muggle born with a tragic life but someone who had delved in magic probably further than any of them had. Riddle could cast silently as Harry had only seen adults do for Merlin’s sake! He had a wand holster in his forearm and he could make himself invisible and soundless in the span of two seconds. Not to mention he used magic with an ease that left Harry amazed. 

He couldn’t say any of this, however, because saying this meant he would have to explain just who exactly Riddle was.

So yes, Harry had wanted them both by his side, and will probably always feel the most comfortable with Ron’s quips and strategic mind and Hermione’s _everything_ , but in this instance, Riddle had been the perfect ally.

Not only had he known how to handle someone like Borgin, but his deduction skills and his vast knowledge of dark magic and artefacts—that Harry was sure trumped Hermione’s by a lot—was the skill set that helped them uncover so much. All Harry could do was apologise and tell them a shorter version of events. As far as his two friends were concerned Harry had heard—thanks to Riddle’s extendable ears—Malfoy mention something about fixing a vanishing cabinet and setting aside a cursed object.

You would think that that would have made them more enthused and curious about what exactly Malfoy was up to but they had only tolerated his heated brainstorming sessions and given their own arguments for a day or two after his apology before they shifted into some type of strained indulgence. 

No one could blame Harry then, that he was looking forward to tomorrow as Riddle would Floo here again and Harry would finally have someone who took his worries seriously. Willing himself to calm down, Harry finally started letting himself relax as he thought that when he woke up he would have someone who didn’t look at him like he was a kid obsessing over catching Father Christmas in the chimney.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley’s insistence on them finishing packing the previous night had meant that they were all much calmer and had more time to eat breakfast in a relaxed enough atmosphere. Mrs. Weasley of course still gave off the nervous energy she had since Harry came to stay in mid-July and would glance at the family clock for one second and out the window to look for their ministry issued cars the next.

Harry had sagely opted for a form of breakfast he was less likely to snort down the wrong airway if Riddle were to come out wearing ripped jeans or a tank top showing off his tattoo and was carefully chewing on a buttered toast. Ron and Hermione had been arguing about something or other in their old married couple manner that both exasperated and endeared Harry so he was ignoring them and was instead talking Quidditch with Ginny.

“So Captain you’ve got any idea on how you’re going to lead the team this year? Did you even have time to think of a strategy to lead the team, or were you too busy muttering about Malfoy?” Ginny said after a lull in the conversation. Harry looked up at her and found her giving him one of his favorite Ginny smiles, teasing and a little bit mischievous. Not that they were his smiles, but well it didn’t matter. Harry returned a teasing smile of his own and looked her straight in the eyes.

“Oh? Well, that’s only for you to worry about once you make the team.” He paused and widened his smile. “Or if.” he took a bite of his toast and winked at her. Ginny’s eyes looked down at his lips for a second before she burst out in a laugh. “Harry Potter: Quidditch captain by day, sass captain at heart,” she said her eyes gleaming playfully.

“Oh wait we’re talking about Quidditch? Oh yeah mate I have some strategies in mind if you—” Harry had turned around to Ron, interested in hearing what he did come up with, as his mind was always brilliant despite his lack of confidence, but could not quite focus properly on what he was saying as he heard the telltale sound of someone coming through the fireplace. Surely enough, Riddle peaked his head through the threshold like he had done last time and Harry couldn’t help but smile at how much he was faking being innocent and polite.

“Good morning, everyone! Mrs. Weasley, can I just say you're looking very radiant as always.” Riddle said and Harry scoffed internally. Mrs. Weasley had not looked truly radiant for quite some time. Not since Voldemort came back.

He walked fully into the kitchen and Harry was at least relieved there was no tattoo or ripped jeans within sight. But that relief was short-lived as even fully covered, Riddle still managed to churn Harry’s stomach in that familiar way Harry was a bit ashamed to admit was jealousy. It was unfair that someone as smart and good-looking as Riddle managed to look even better wearing a tight black turtleneck shirt with what looked like a snake fang necklace—which Harry sarcastically thought was really subtle. 

Mrs.Weasley took him in with a beaming smile and hugged him tightly before dropping him to the empty chair right next to Harry at the top of the table. A chair Harry might have deliberately, sort of, made sure stayed empty. 

Riddle smiled at him pleasantly enough and waved at everyone else at the table who waved back in degrees of enthusiasm varying from Ginny who wiggled her fingers at him—in an imitation of Fleur—to Hermione who smiled and finally Ron who gave a short nod. Harry had meant to ask him something trivial and probably stupid like where his suitcase was but his eyes drifted to Riddle’s biceps and chest that filled his shirt and so, of course, he asked, like an even worse idiot “I didn’t know you played Quidditch.” 

Riddle’s smile froze on his face and he looked back at Harry with a bemused expression “I never played actually, I can fly, though. Is there—”

“Oh it’s just cause you look fit... like physically fit I mean, and you have arms and a chest and well... I thought you were just like always in the library reading books not that that’s a bad thing just... yes.” Harry did not know what was happening to him and wished someone would cast a tongue lock charm on him. He’d also settle for just a simple Stupefy.

The silence that fell on the whole kitchen made it abundantly clear that the garden gnomes he and Ron had thrown over the fence were back as there were a few shrieks. Harry couldn’t help but envy them at that point. At least garden gnomes didn’t have a tendency to shove their whole foot up their mouths.

Harry threw a desperate look at Hermione to help him make sense of what he just said because surely she, as the smartest, kindest, and most understanding would help him but all she did was stare at him with a calculating look and mouth a very confused “What was that?” at him. Before Harry could frown at her and turn to his best mate ever Ron for his help, Riddle chuckled.

“I do have arms and a chest yes, very astute Potter.” Harry narrowed his eyes at him but Riddle seemed to be clearly teasing as he continued “And to answer what I have surmised was your question. I play Rugby or well, played Rugby as a child. Then most summers as well, my village had a team and we would hold matches with nearby villages.”

Harry didn’t know if he was being lied to or not. He could not imagine Voldemort tackling someone for a ball. Riddle, though, had no reason to lie unless he was addicted to some type of potion that gave him a muscle definition Harry had always longed for and only had dreams of achieving this year as he ate full meals at Hogwarts and trained for Quidditch. 

“Okay yes that was my question thank you for understanding. Sometimes in the morning, it’s like someone casts a Confundus charm on me. Oh look, the ministry car has arrived! Let’s all grab our suitcases.” he said avoiding looking his friends directly in the eye and raising his brows at Mrs. Weasley’s amused expression. Et Tu Mrs. Weasley?

He quickly grabbed his suitcase and left for the car. Thankfully, by the time everyone got outside, his humiliating blunder seemed to have been forgotten as Riddle was animatedly talking to Hermione about house elves. Harry frowned, he was not very proud of his outburst at the breakfast table and was sure he could keep his temper in check this time at the mention of Kreacher. Although it sounded like their conversation seemed to be veered far away from him.

“I would be more willing to agree with you if you had some type of concrete proof other than your own testimony. I mean don’t get me wrong abusing them is wrong and honestly vile but what exactly led them to serve under wizards? Were they defeated in some type of war and enslaved? Because I doubt that considering how magically potent they are, they would have been easy to subjugate”. 

Hermione seemed to reluctantly agree “I admit that I am curious about that as well and it would help with understanding them even more but S.P.E.W is about protecting and ensuring they have rights because that is something they are very much in need of.” Harry looked at Ron who flanked Hermione’s right side and shared a discrete eye roll.

“I see. Well, I will have to do my own research about this before I would think about joining. I'm sure you understand?” Hermione nodded and was about to say something when Riddle interrupted her “But I have to say how admirable it is that you are so passionate about something and are not afraid to speak on it despite the clear stigma and lack of interest Wizards and Witches must show this particular subject.” 

Hermione seemed to relax her shoulders a bit and smiled at Riddle. “Thank you. I have some pamphlets about S.P.E.W as well in my suitcase, maybe I could give them to you at Hogwarts?” Riddle smiled. “That would be great thank you.”

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were the last two to join them and Harry grabbed Riddle’s arm before he could go in first. “I need to talk to you more about what we saw the other day.” Riddle hummed and climbed in the car. Before Harry could follow him Ron got in and almost made Harry fall back on his arse. “Sorry mate, just didn't want the middle seat like last time.” was all Ron said.  
Harry frowned at him. Shaking his head, he got in next and heard Ginny tell Hermione in a joking manner. “So much for ladies first.” Hermione laughed “Yeah and you’d probably scoff and push them in if they had said that to you.” she shook her head and settled next to Harry. He gave her a smile and whispered to her as they started their drive to the station.

“You and Riddle doing all right?” 

She gave him a look but smiled back at him. “Yeah, I sort of reprimanded him for what you two did but he told me he mostly went there to keep an eye on you and not leave you alone which I understand very much.” 

“Story of your life isn’t it?” 

She shook her head fondly. “Ever since Fluffy. Oh and then there was the troll wasn’t there? I haven’t regretted any of it though.” Harry nudged her with his shoulder and was about to try to shut his eyes for a bit when Ron nudged him on the side. 

“So Quidditch?” he asked looking for some reason very eager and Harry couldn’t help but smile fondly as he listened to Ron’s strategies, Ginny piping from time to time either to playfully mock them or give her own unique perspective. Riddle was looking through the window with a contented look.

Harry knew the upcoming year was not going to be easy or any less full of twists, surprises, and looming disaster knowing his luck. Yet sitting here in a ministry car headed for what is without a doubt his dearest place Hogwarts and talking with people he cared about and Riddle he couldn’t help but feel happy.

* * *

Of course, happiness could never last even a full hour for Harry so his mood had soured quite a bit after his fruitless conversation with Mr. Weasley. At least the other man had agreed to do a search of the Malfoy Manor to look for anything cursed or conspicuous like a vanishing cabinet. 

Harry was trying not to step on his own feet with his heavy suitcase as Mrs. Weasley said her goodbyes but he managed to wave at her before the train picked up enough speed and left the station. Harry knew Ron and Hermione would have left their Prefect meeting or whatever it was they did, so he didn’t look for them but saw Ginny talking to a couple of her friends. Harry started heading for Ginny when he heard a very distinct posh voice.

“Yes, it’s one of the unspoken rules that first-year students should look for as many friends as they can. You two are no exception. Imagine how fun it would be to know so many other students on the first day.” Harry looked back to the compartment he had just walked by and rolled his eyes when he saw Riddle speaking with a conspiring smile at two tiny first-year girls who looked to be already infatuated with him.

“You already know me now, and you can always come to me if you need any help, or just want to say hello. So go on, have fun and meet new people! Take your suitcases with you as well. Here,” Harry saw him draw his wand and the girls looked about ready to faint with excitement. “Now your suitcases are really light and you can carry them with you everywhere. It will wear off by the time we arrive at Hogwarts, though, don’t forget to leave them here inside the train so they will be taken to your dorms,” he said with a dazzling smile and the two girls giggled as they easily held up their suitcases. “Thank you Tom.” one of them who looked to be the bolder of the two said before she hugged Riddle and left with her friend shrieking behind her.

Harry saw that he had his own horde of girls staring at him with hopeful smiles but he got in the compartment and closed the door. Riddle turned around and smirked at him. 

“Scamming two eleven-year-old girls of the compartment they probably looked for with their parents just so you don’t have to go around the train. You really are incorrigible aren’t you?” 

Riddle’s smirk turned into his signature polite smile.”But the blonde one had come so boldly forward and invited me to stay with them as I was walking past. What else was I supposed to do?” 

Harry snorted and shook his head. He didn't even bother to remember their names, the git. Throwing his suitcase on the luggage rack and settling on the seat underneath, Harry looked on as Tom waved his wand at the door and something slimy seemed to settle at the end of it. He raised his brows.

“Sticking charm so no one will be able to open the door,” he said as if that was completely natural and Harry couldn’t help but snort. 

He found himself yet again somewhat fascinated by just how easily Riddle handled magic. It was like he used it as easily as he did his own limbs. He knew which spell to use in which moment perfectly. The other teen had managed to transfigure his features, cast disillusionment charms, and that spell that stopped eavesdropping all so easily. Harry of course knew all the spells they had learned in class so far, be it in Charms, Transfiguration, or Defence but most of his extracurricular spell knowledge he’d gained in his fourth year as he studied for the third trial.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind,” Riddle said in a neutral enough tone and Harry looked back at him. 

“I was just thinking how lacking I am in magic,” at Riddle’s raised brows he continued. “I mean when it comes to anything outside of class. I’m good enough at some curses, most hexes and defence spells, and pretty decent at dueling spells but that’s about it.”

Riddle hummed “I take it this was brought on by my own diversified display of spells?” Harry grimaced, was he that easy to read? Riddle chuckled amicably “I personally don’t believe you’re lacking in magic, you seemed strong enough to crack mugs and plates just with your volatile magic. That’s impressive. But I think you are not the type to grab a book just for the fun of it and start practicing spells, right?”

Harry reluctantly agreed. “Yeah, most of the extra spells I know, I learned out of necessity for certain situations I was in.”

“Not very surprising as it is one of the best ways to learn spells. I could help you if you want to add to your list of known spells. Point you to the right books or even take a more practical approach if you wouldn’t be too opposed to it.”

Harry considered him. He knew Hermione had a large arsenal of spells as well so he could always ask her but he also knew she was not the best teacher and would often get frustrated if he or Ron lagged in understanding a notion she had no trouble with. Harry also remembered how Voldemort had almost no patience but he now knew better than to expect Riddle to be exactly similar to him.

“I can be a slow learner sometimes, and I learn better with unconventional methods. I wouldn’t turn you down if you were offering free lessons but would you be able to handle it? I had my fill of teachers who blamed their inability to teach on me being thick,” Snape’s Occlumency lessons last year would always be a sore spot for him as the man had done absolutely nothing to help him and would instead give vague instructions like _clear your mind_ , before mentally assaulting him. 

“I tutored first years and second years for a fee back in my time, and I lived with a grandmother who hated my guts. I have more than enough patience for the Chosen one don’t worry,” Riddle added the last bit with a teasing smile and Harry rolled his eyes.

“You’re a real arse you know that?”

“So you had something to say to me? Did you want to talk about my arms and chest and how exactly I came about having possession of both?” 

Harry flushed in annoyance and kicked at Riddle who chuckled and took it in stride. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own at the ridiculousness of it all and shook his head. “I wanted to talk about the Malfoy thing. No one seems to believe he’s up to something. And it gets worse when I mention my suspicions of him being a Death Eater. Going all: ‘No Harry don’t be ridiculous Voldemort will never let a sixteen-year-old join his ranks! We can say this with certainty because we, unlike you, have concrete knowledge of how his brain works! And oh Harry would you please stop being so ridiculous.’” He mimicked alternating between an imitation of Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione. 

Riddle bit his lip at the display as if holding a smile but frowned. “That is ridiculous. I assume from the surprisingly accurate impersonification skills you displayed that you have told your two friends and Mr. Weasley?” Harry confirmed and Riddle rubbed at his jaw “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You probably have the most knowledge of Voldemort. I mean the two of you share a mind link don’t you?”

Harry tensed and racked his brain thinking back if he had ever said something about this or if the prophet mentioned it in passing. He came back with a blank so he asked Riddle about it.

“Ah well, I just guessed after what you said when you had your… outburst at the breakfast table the other day.”

Well fucking bollocks, Harry did mention something about Voldemort, didn't he? Hw was usually careful about what to say to Riddle and had been happy as well when he was able to hide his cape of invisibility from him the other day. Still, it looked like he wasn’t as careful as he should have been.

“Yes of course, and you don’t let anything get past that brain of yours, do you?” he asked almost petulantly.

Riddle shook his head mockingly and Harry could feel himself relax again despite himself. “As I was saying, your connection with Voldemort, which I take is known by your close friends, should make them trust your judgment regarding his probable actions more. Although I believe in this case it’s some type of unconscious logic that might be in play.”

Harry looked at Riddle, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well—” They were interrupted by someone trying to slide open the door. Harry turned around and saw Ernie Mcmillan and Hannah Abbot who had both been part of the DA last year trying to open the door probably to say hi. “Harry? Your door is stuck” Ernie said and Harry thought he heard Riddle mutter “Stating the obvious quite well, aren’t we?” and could not help a snort. He quickly shifted his features into an apologetic smile. 

“Oh yeah, it’s this prototype product from Fred and George that kind of went wrong and stuck the door. It will dissolve in a bit. I think.” he added.

“Oh okay, I wanted to shake your hand Harry, but I suppose it could wait 'til Hogwarts. See you later.”

“See you, Harry,” said Hannah and the two of them threw a curious look at Riddle who was looking out of the window.

“Nice cover story.” came Riddle’s amused voice.

Harry shrugged, with the way he had been in trouble ever since he had set foot in Hogwarts and the many times he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing; Harry was basically an expert at cover stories. Although he doubted he could hold a candle to the liar extraordinaire himself Tom Riddle.

“I have the experience, so you were saying?”

Riddle seemed to be considering him for a moment before he spoke “I was saying that your friends and Mr.Weasley might possibly be unconsciously incapable of thinking of Voldemort as big enough of a monster to punish a sixteen-year-old this way. Then again I might just be talking rubbish, he did go after you even as a toddler, so his cruelty in regard to children is not exactly unknown. ”

Harry bit the inside of his cheeks and ran a hand through his messy hair. Something unconscious would definitely be better than them actively dismissing his sound theories as paranoia. It did not matter, Harry wouldn’t begrudge them this. They were all amazing people who had stood with him against so much, especially Ron and Hermione. 

However, it was a fact that neither one of them was with him in that graveyard or in the chamber. Harry knew intimately just how cruel Voldemort could be and while he would have thought Malfoy would want to join the Death Eaters because of arrogance and pride, Riddle had convinced him it was more than that and could have also involved punishment as one of Voldemort’s motives.

“Moving on, I would like to ask you a question about my other self. I read as many newspaper issues as I could get my hands on as well as this century’s history books, but they seem to be less about meaningful facts and more about building this dramatic, spooky story. So my question is: how does Voldemort treat his followers?”

Harry was not the least bit surprised Riddle managed to get his hands on issues of the prophet or history books, he was frighteningly resourceful. Harry found himself not having to think about the issue too much before coming up with an answer.

“One of the interactions I saw of him with his followers was right after he was brought back. Back then, Voldemort had alternated between praise and punishment, he would also mock some of them. He called them his and even spoke softly to some. He didn’t use the Cruciatus curse as often as you’d think and he forgave them dismissively as they threw themselves at his feet.”

Tom chuckled as Harry finished and he couldn’t help but throw the other teen a bemused look

“Oh, I was just thinking of how ironic it all was and how much Voldemort must be enjoying it.” Harry was a bit lost but Riddle continued on. “Imagine, the people who had looked down on him as he was sorted into Slytherin and dismissed him as a mudblood, those who called him unworthy as he graduated and refused him jobs. All those blood purists were bowing down in front of him and kissing his shoes. A half-blood. What sweet irony, don’t you think?”  
It really was. Lucious Malfoy was almost peeing his pants at the sight of Voldemort and yet he was following the orders of a man who was fathered by someone he would deem less than dirt. It really was in a sense some type of twisted irony.

“Voldemort is not like you though,” Harry added after a beat. Riddle seemed to take pride in being half muggle and was very much into incorporating muggle culture into his life, going as far as following the latest trends as well. Voldemort hated his muggle name and discarded it when he was Riddle’s age. It was safe to say he did not care for his non-magical half.

“Voldemort hates muggles, and probably does not think of himself as a half-blood most of the time but as their worthy Lord: the heir of Slytherin.”

Riddle mulled this over and nodded, an excited and proud expression on his face as he pointed at Harry. “A very astute observation. See, you know him almost intimately.”

“I was him,” Harry said quietly, in a bold move. He didn’t know why he was telling Riddle this, but between having someone believe him and Riddle’s smile he felt his guard go down a little bit.

Riddle’s smile froze and he slowly let it slip from his face. As the silence settled and Harry took a deep breath Riddle didn’t try to prompt him for more. Something Harry appreciated as he carried on.

“Sometimes, I would get visions of what he was doing. Eventually, it turned out he could manipulate these visions but at first, I would see him talking to someone as if I was a spectator on the scene. Maybe it was because he didn’t have a solid corporal form. One time last year he possessed his snake and I was looking at the world through her eyes I even… I even felt her bloodthirst.”

The night he had woken up from his dream having just seen Mr. Weasley getting attacked through the snake’s eyes would forever be engraved in his mind. He was grateful it allowed them to save the Weasley patriarch but he could never forget how wrong it was when he felt that animalistic simple-minded cruelty that was fueled by Voldemort’s own orders.

“Dumbledore told me Voldemort would now be doing everything in his power to guard his mind against mine because he got hurt pretty badly when he tried to possess me last year, but I always have this fear nagging at the back of my mind. A fear I might be more affected by this link we have than I am even aware of. I never told anyone this but I felt powerful, when he possessed me, I mean. It was painful as all hell, don't get me wrong, and somehow I felt like I was in Voldemort’s body. But at one point before I started fighting back it felt like nothing mattered but my own strength and that it was going to be magnified greatly if I just let myself go and let Lord Voldemort completely take the wheel so to speak.”

Harry chanced a look at Riddle and found him staring at him with open-mouthed shock. He looked at him like he couldn’t believe what Harry had just said. Harry immediately went on the defensive and regretted sharing so much. Of course, no one would understand him.

“Rich of you to judge considering your own shifty morals don’t you think? Like you’re going to tell me you wouldn’t revel in power I—” Harry’s previous nerves were turning to rage and hurt because he took a leap of faith on this version of Riddle and told him something he never shared with anyone in the hopes that he could be understood or… Harry didn’t know what exactly he needed to hear but it wasn’t this. A pair of surprisingly firm hands wrapped one of his clenched fists and Harry looked down to see Riddle was holding it tightly.

“Calm down Potter I wasn’t judging, Merlin you’re about to break our suitcases, just calm down. I promise I wasn’t judging you. I was just shocked at the fact he was capable of possessing you like that.” Harry felt his blood rushing at his ears and his heart beating fast as he tried to calm himself down. He didn’t have a connection to Voldemort anymore, why did he get angry so fast? But just like with the Kreacher issue at breakfast and how it was more about his grief this was more about hurt and fear of judgement. 

Riddle was still holding his hand and Harry’s breathing continued slowing down. When he felt calm enough to speak he turned around to apologise to Riddle for exploding like that. Of course the other wouldn’t judge him for something like this, he was used to shopping at Borgin and Burke for Merlin’s sake. Riddle just interrupted him, however. 

“It’s all right I get it. But this whole possession business, you pushed him out? As in he took full control of you using your bond and you pushed him out?”

Harry nodded mutely. He felt a bit ridiculous adding this but he still did. “Dumbledore said it was probably the… the love and the light in me, well it hurt him so much he had no choice to leave and raise his own mental shields so he wouldn’t feel anything like that again.

Riddle smiled maniacally. “Brilliant! Just bloody brilliant!” Tom looked frantic and was squeezing Harry’s hand a bit too hard. “He used whatever hold he had on you after he gave you your scar and still you managed to kick him out of your body. As if you’ve completely turned the tides against him. The people call you the Chosen One because of some prophecy but the truth of the matter is that you are special because you’re stubborn and strong-willed enough to beat someone like Voldemort.” Riddle’s lips glowed with sunlight and Harry felt his guts clenching.

Riddle let go of his hand and got up pacing the compartment. “And you thought I would judge you?” he scoffed, “I understand you, I am powerful enough at sixteen,” Harry relaxed a bit and smiled at Riddle’s arrogance. It was almost endearing, “Imagine what several decades of knowledge and practice would add to that. Voldemort’s power frightens me because of how big it must be so of course, I would enjoy the idea of having it for myself. But just like you, I would reject it because I hate being used as a puppet. Fuck him.”

Harry was smiling, Riddle did get it. Voldemort’s power was immense but to have a taste of it and with the need to just stop all pain and just surrender to it, you couldn’t help but want it for yourself.

A sudden noise from the right snapped Harry out of his thoughts and he saw Ron trying to open the door. Riddle must have discreetly taken off his charm because the door opened by Ron’s second attempt. He was also calmly sitting by the window as if he hadn’t been practically ecstatic with the fact that Harry drove Voldemort away. Was it because that meant there was hope for him in case Voldemort tried it on him? Harry would have to ask him later. 

For now, he smiled at his two friends who settled themselves in the compartment. Ron sat next to Harry and faced Riddle while Hermione was opposite Harry.  
“Bloody doors keep getting jammed. Anyways, I’m starving, hope the lunch trolley hurries the hell up,” Ron said as he rubbed his own belly.

“Hey, Jedusor.”

“Weasley, Hermione.” Riddle said with a nod. “You know if you guys are hungry I have some sandwiches I asked the house elf to make.”

Harry saw Ron frown “Sandwiches made by Kreacher? No offense mate but I don’t wanna spend my first week back in Hogwarts in the hospital wing.” 

Riddle had brought out his suitcase and was looking through it by then and he let out a fake chuckle that Harry should find offensive on Ron’s behalf, but he just bit his lip and averted his eyes not to crack up. Hermione was looking between him and Riddle with that same calculating gaze she used this morning. She seemed to come to a satisfying conclusion as she smiled to herself and returned Harry’s bemused look to him.

 _Oh, so she was playing that game, huh?_ He playfully kicked at her seat and she swatted at his foot.

“Oh please, I would not trust Kreacher with cleaning the loo let alone making my food.” Ron snorted and Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing. Harry just took the sandwich Riddle gave him with a grateful smile.

“It’s actually this curious little elf Professor Dumbledore tasked with taking care of bringing my food and doing the laundry. He wears the ugliest socks and probably about four knitted bonnets, even though it’s summer. He and Kreacher met once and all they did was throw insults at each other, it was quite funny.” Harry’s eyes widened at the description. “Dobby? You’re telling me Dobby was making your food? That’s such a weird coincidence.” 

“I take it from your enthusiasm you know of this Dobby? Let me guess; you somehow were involved during or after he was freed.”

Ron had taken a bite of his sandwich as soon as he heard it was another house elf that made it and was not about four bites in and snapped his fingers at Riddle. “Goffit wight inoen” Hermione’s scandalised “Ronald please chew before you talk!” only served to amuse Harry more.

“You got it right in one, I think was what he said and you did. Harry actually tricked Lucious Malfoy into freeing him by giving him this sock inadvertently.” Hermione said as she gave Harry a proud smile.

“Oh yeah how did you do it again? Slipped your gross wet sock from after your fight with the basilisk inside the diary and gave it back to him right?” Harry grimaced at the amount of information Ron had just given Riddle but then he remembered the two of them were allies and that meant sharing details like this. Harry would not bring them up themselves but he also wouldn’t shy away from them.

“Your fight with the basilisk?" Riddle asked dubiously "Aren’t they an XXXXX rank creature that is immune to almost every type of magic and could kill you if you look into their eyes?”

“Man you really are a bookworm aren't you? But yeah Harry here defeated the ol’ thing at twelve. I was with him too, not that I helped much.” Ron said with a shrug.

Harry shook his head _in for a penny, in for a pound_ as they say. “You helped a lot Ron, both you and Hermione did. Without your wand, we’d both be sitting trapped in the chamber as Lockhart claimed we died and doomed the wizarding world,” 

Ron’s ears turned red as he was wont to do when he was embarrassed and proud and Harry chanced a glance at Riddle who was shaking his head.

“I can’t believe I’m in the presence of such big heroes. Basilisk slayers at twelve! Looks like you lot need to change quite a few entries in Newt Scamander’s Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.” 

Harry and Ron exchanged a look and the both of them probably remembered how Ron had added nine Xs to their category and confirmed that there was a colony of the spiders in Scotland. They burst out in laughter and Harry explained this to a curious Tom. Hermione seemed to find it less funny than him and Ron but she still smiled and shook her head in her signature _what am I going to do with you boys_ expression.

By the time they finished their sandwiches (Harry’s were a very delicious egg sandwich and a more plain ham and cheese one) the sun was shining bright in the sky and Hermione and Riddle had started talking passionately about Muggle politics. Ron narrowed his eyes at them but Harry reassured him “Jedusor is a decent bloke, he’s just excited to find out more about current muggle politics.” he whispered. Ron sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I noticed that, I tried disliking him ’cause he tries to hide how posh he is and basically tried to charm my whole family but he’s quite a decent bloke isn’t he? I know you two are close too, so he must be a good enough bloke for that to happen.” Harry opened his mouth to deny being close to him, but then he considered their interactions from an outsider’s perspective, and well it would look that way, wouldn’t it? Harry did, in fact, get closer to him as well, so there was that.

“He’s all right. Arrogant and thinks the world of himself but it’s somehow funny instead of being annoying like Malfoy.”

Ron sat up looking annoyed. “Oh yeah and speaking of Malfoy! That git was not doing his prefect duties at all, we passed by his compartment earlier and he was just sitting there with his Slytherin goons.”

Harry mirrored Ron sitting up straighter and asked “And how did he react exactly when he saw you.”

“His usual obnoxious way, by flipping us the bird.” Ron said dismissively “But it's pretty surprising, isn’t it? Not him flipping us the bird, but how he’s not taking advantage of his power and terrorising some first-year Gryffindors or whatever it is he does for fun.”

Harry nodded and felt the gears turning inside his head. Malfoy was clearly planning something or perhaps it was the burden of being a Death Eater that was getting to him or giving him a big head. He might have gotten the mark as a punishment but knowing him he definitely would play it up as a privilege to his Slytherin friends, if he even tells them.

“Maybe he preferred being Umbridge’s lapdog last year in the brigade. He definitely had more power and freedom than as a prefect.

Harry was busy trying to think how exactly his blase attitude, the cabinet, and the cursed object could play into everything and if they were related. So he didn’t immediately reply to disagree with Hermione and was instead startled by some girl in her third year.

“I have a message for Tom Jedusor and Harry P-Potter” she struggled out, her face turning red as she met Harry’s eyes and then got even redder when she diverted her face to the other boy in the compartment who had perked and was now smiling at her politely. 

She was holding two invitations sealed with beautiful purple ribbons and Harry and Tom both took theirs. “Thank you very much,” Riddle said flashing her a brilliant smile after he looked down at the invitation. The poor girl seemed to get overwhelmed by the effect of a full Riddle toothpaste commercial smile and Harry’s own presence and she stumbled out of the room looking like she was about to explode.

“What is it?” Ron asked curiously.  
Harry was opening the scroll when Riddle answered. “An invitation from Professor Slughorn I believe. My grandfather told me he used to send his invitations tied with a pretty purple ribbon.” 

And as Harry read the small message it turned out Riddle was right, again. Of course, Slughorn had taught Tom for five years so he must have known the extravagant professor very well. The way Slughorn had reacted when Tom had dropped in at his living room was proof enough as well.

“I did not expect to receive an invitation so early. That’s a pleasant surprise.” Riddle was saying to Ron and Hermione.

Taken by a sudden inspiration, Harry said. “You go on ahead Jedusor, I’ll just grab something from my suitcase. Be right there.” The train was way too crowded now for him to use the cape effectively but maybe when it was emptier as they came back from Slughorn he could slip away from Riddle and use it to spy on Malfoy. Also, this barely counted as an adventure, so he would not be breaking his deal with Riddle.

He quickly slipped the cape under his clothes as he’d done before. “Just in case there’s an opportunity to spy on Malfoy,” he said to his two friends before quickly stepping away.

Harry looked for Riddle as he stepped out and saw him next to a black-haired Ravenclaw who was giggling at something he said. Harry knew that voice and he couldn’t help but frown at that sight. What in Merlin’s name was Cho Chang doing talking to Riddle?

“Hey Jedusor, Compartment C’s further down, let’s go.” He said and watched with satisfaction as Cho’s shoulders tensed and she quickly got back into her compartment to join her snitch of a friend Marrietta, who despite wearing heavy makeup, still could not hide Hermione’s curse from last year. The bitch deserved it.

“What was that about?” Harry asked as he and Riddle walked down the somewhat crowded train halls. “That? Oh, that girl was having trouble with the compartment door so I cast Reparo on it. You’d think with her being a witch she’d consider using her wand when facing a problem and not try to force it to shut with her hands.” Riddle spoke with such bored derision that Harry chuckled. The fact that it was directed at Cho who he did not exactly hate but was no big fan of either, only made the situation funnier.

When they finally made it to compartment C, Harry saw they hadn’t been the only ones invited but Slughorn’s excited exclamation of “Harry my boy!” sure did make it feel like he was the guest of honor. Slughorn had jumped out of his seat as soon as he saw Harry but then his eyes found Tom and he did a double-take. “And Tom! Dear me! You look quite different from your grandfather, don’t you? How wonderful for the both of you to join us. Please take a seat, the two of you. I hope you are doing well? Albus told me you two hit it off and it’s so pleasing to see, let me tell you.”

Harry and Riddle took the last two free seats at the table facing each other and were the closest to the door. Harry looked at the other guests and immediately saw Neville squished in a corner next to Slughorn and staring at him with a somewhat panicked look and he returned his shaky smile with a small one of his own. There was also a Slytherin from their year and two seventh years he had never seen before.

Slughorn went along introducing everyone to them and even brought up how he had almost invited a certain fierce redhead who had impressed him with her perfectly executed bat bogey hex but remembered he did not have space and that he could still get to know her in Hogwarts. Harry was pretty sure he was talking about Ginny and couldn’t help but smile in fond amusement. Only Ginny Weasley would so boldly cast a hex in front of the faculty and get rewarded for it.  
Slughorn went on to talk to one of the seventh years he had introduced as Belby then the other one who was named Mclaggen. It was as Harry suspected before, the man seemed to be like some type of art collector presenting his art to others and somehow taking pride in how he had managed to ‘acquire’ them.

Slughorn had just finished a quite difficult ten minutes of conversation with Neville as he talked about his parents when the room fell in expectant silence as he turned to Harry and Riddle.

“Tom, I find myself very curious to hear how exactly you have been acclimating. Albus told me everything and I also heard from the ministry that you had the highest grades for your year. Ten O.W.Ls all with O’s. Not that it comes as much of a surprise of course you… your... uh grandfather had gotten the best grades in his O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts but had then disappeared and went back to the muggle world of course, but Albus assured me you had different aspirations.” Everyone in the room was exchanging looks, probably at the fact that Tom was muggle-born and Slughorn seemed to revel in their confusion.

Acting as if he was a very masterful storyteller, Slughorn turned to everyone. “Oh, but I did not introduce Tom properly, my apologies everyone. You see I had the… pleasure of teaching Tom’s grandfather who was, believe it or not, a Slytherin muggle-born,” Harry saw Zabini get a pursed look on his face as if he smelled something foul and Neville raised his brows. “Yes, he was in my house and when I tell you that I had never taught someone so brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, such a shame what happened after he graduated.” Slughorn said with a somber voice that everyone at the table took in with shock as it came unexpectedly from the previously bubbly man. He shook his head as if shaking away some bad memory and looked at Tom with wonder. “But it seems fate plays one of her funny twists. Tom, you’re like a second chance for what your grandfather could have achieved and I cannot wait to see it. I’m telling you, everyone, young Tom here is one to keep an eye out for. As dear Harry told me when we met earlier this summer, muggle-borns can be the most brilliant of their years. Now Harry I—”

Slughorn had turned to Harry with excitement in his eyes as if he had saved the best for last and Harry couldn’t help but think of himself as a big juicy piece of meat Slughorn could not wait to sink his teeth into. Riddle interrupted him with a polite enough voice 

“Thank you so much, sir, hearing a wizard as great as yourself say such things about someone like myself, I can’t help but be motivated to work even more. I actually have a potion I am working on. I worked on one of the common antidotes for love potions, and I believe I am close to reaching a breakthrough in making a potion that would act as a preventive measure for them and grant the drinker immunity.”

Zabini snorted and not even looking at Riddle said in a bored tone that sort of grated on Harry’s nerves. “Right, because love potions are so dangerous we need immunity from them. Not that it surprises me coming from—” 

Riddle interrupted him “You speak like this now but if someone were to slip Amortentia in your drink you will become their property. You will have zero power over your own actions yet you will still retain your memories were the effects to dissipate. Which is to say if someone used the potion and took advantage of you or made you do their bidding in whatever way they wanted, not only would you be helpless to do anything about it, but you will think yourself craving whatever it is they are forcing you to do. Maybe because of your mother’s history with men you consider these matters inconsequential, but I assure you they are not.”

Harry coughed to hide a small laugh when he saw Zabini start to lose his bored composure and effectively broke the silence that fell on the compartment. Slughorn looked at Tom with a calculating gaze before he guffawed. “My dear Tom, you really are nothing like your grandfather. I have to say your open brashness and confrontational nature is very refreshing. I usually try not to mix studies with my own dinners, but hand me your notes on the matter and I will be sure to discuss these with you at Hogwarts.”

Riddle nodded. “I have them with me now if you would like Professor.” Slughorn seemed to consider it for a second. “Ah why not, let me see. You don’t mind do you Harry? I feel like I’ve snubbed you by accident!” If anything Harry was relieved he was pretty sure there would be talks of his status as Chosen One and he was not looking forward to that. “Of course not, sir” was all he said.

Riddle levitated his notes to Slughorn who gave a cursory glance at them first as if to judge them quickly then promptly read the first page and second in under two minutes. 

There were still a few pages left but Slughorn was wide-eyed before he looked at Tom and beamed. “This is extraordinary, simply extraordinary. I will need to take a deeper look into this but I believe you’re one of only three other students of mine that have managed to leave me gobsmacked. This could revolutionise potion-making,” Everyone was looking at Riddle with budding respect that hadn’t been there before, even Zabini seemed to be interested enough to sneer at Riddle instead of just looking morose. 

Harry couldn’t help but admire how he managed to impress a room full of purebloods who, excluding Neville, were barely acknowledging the praise Slughorn had given him at first. But wait why were they talking about Potions? Wasn’t Slughorn a defence professor? Slughorn turned to Harry with a smile and he had no choice but to drop the thought as he answered multiple questions about his Chosen One status.

Slughorn finally cut himself after the sun was almost down and he had managed to make Harry talk about his adventure in the Ministry and Neville come to his help in talking about how the Prophet was wrong in its retelling of those events. 

“Oh Dear, it’s almost dark, isn’t it? How quickly time flies when you are in good company am I right? Well run along everyone, Tom if you could maybe stay behind for a bit I would like to set up a time where we could talk more about your project.” 

Everyone filed out of the compartment and Harry was joined by Neville. “Thank Merlin that’s over right Harry? Oh and nice to see you of course.” Harry shook Neville’s hand as the two of them got out in the corridor. Zabini walked past the two of them and checked Harry on the shoulder hard before glaring at him. Harry made sure to glare at him even harder and could not help but wish he had Riddle’s ability to inconspicuously cast hexes at nasty Slytherins

“I was so worried he was going to give me detention, you see I was just saying hi to Ginny when Zacharias Smith came and she hexed him after he was talking rubbish. I had my wand out too but then Slughorn came and” Harry saw Zabini walking ahead of them and kept his eyes trained on him “he asked for her name then mine and invited me to come with him and told Ginny he would be looking forward to seeing her in class. A funny reason to be asked to join a club though isn’t it? Famous Auror parents?” Neville asked and Harry shook his head. “Better than because your mother is famous for her dead husbands.”

A crazy idea popped into his mind and he brought up the cape from under his clothes and threw it on himself. “What are you...”

“Catch up with you later,” he said as he followed behind Zabini and barely managed to slip into the compartment he shared with the other Slytherins and slip into the luggage rack. He was pretty sure his legs had slipped out of the cape as he had jumped and was thus happy his distraction had worked well as Goyle and Zabini hissed insults at each other after Goyle pushed the other boy off of him and closed the compartment door roughly.

Harry felt his heart beat faster as he thought Malfoy’s eyes had settled on his sneakers but that had been a false alarm.

Harry only checked back into the conversation as his heart stopped beating in his eardrums and he heard Malfoy ask about the ones invited. He remained somewhat impassive at the mention of Mclaggen and Pansy Parkinson exclaimed how stupid she found Belby when Zabini mentioned him.

“And also Potter, Longbottom, and this mudblood named Jedusor.” 

Malfoy shot up from his seat like he had been stung by a bee, smacking away Pansy’s hand that had been brushing his hair.

“Mudblood? Did he come with Potter?” Malfoy asked voice hard.

“Yes, that filth thought himself clever as he schooled me on the dangers of love potions and Slughorn had the gall to praise him.”

Malfoy brushed a hand through his hair frowning. “What? Why would Slughorn even invite some nobody mudblood no one knows about?”

“You know him, Draco?” Pansy asked curiously.

Malfoy nodded tersely. “Met him with Potter and his two fans, I thought he was just Granger’s boyfriend or something but he said some things to me right before I left the shop…”

“Yes he has quite the mouth on him, I suppose someone should teach him his place once we’re at Hogwarts,” Zabini said having seemingly calmed down and turned back to his sort of detached manner of speaking.

“But why would Slughorn even invite him? Potter I get, precious little Potty is the Chosen One so I get that. I don’t get why he’d invite Longbottom but at least that failure is still a pureblood but this mudblood? What is his deal?”

“He’s some type of genius, he had the highest scores of OWL in our year apparently and I’m pretty sure Slughorn compared him to Snape as one of the greatest students he ever had. After reading a potion that immunises its drinker to Amortentia, mind you, so you know Slughorn might be losing his marbles a bit.” 

Malfoy still seemed to be agitated. “So his grandfather was taught by Slughorn? How does that get him access to the exclusive Potter trio? Was he wearing something obnoxiously muggle again?”

Malfoy asked and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he sounded when he was obsessing over Malfoy. He couldn’t hide a spark of amusement at Malfoy getting annoyed at Riddle’s muggle attires, maybe that was something Riddle did on purpose. Being so unapologetically muggle while still managing to outperform everyone in magic.

“Yes it was quite ridiculous, and you know with how low the Hogwarts girls' standards are they will all flock to him as he throws around his charm. Pathetic.” 

Pansy looked interested for a bit. “His charm? Is he good looking? Not that it matters of course he’s a mudblood.” Malfoy huffed and laid his head back on Pansy’s thighs.

“He’s infuriatingly handsome and so fucking smug I just want to hex his hair off.” Malfoy snarled and Pansy looked taken aback for a moment but decided not to say anything as she started running a hand through his hair again.

The conversation turned to Malfoy pretending he was not hurt by the fact that Slughorn would not be treating him differently and would instead judge him for his father, and Harry started losing interest and thinking this was a complete waste of time until Malfoy started implying he would probably work for Voldemort as he mentioned he would not care about exams but the services you did for him instead. Harry’s heart was beating frantically. A service he did for Voldemort that would please him and that would not require any diploma from Hogwarts. Harry bit his lip, this was huge. Could it be somewhat related to what they heard him discuss inside Borgin and Burke's?

The next minutes were absolute hell as he was hit in the head with a suitcase and could not help but let out a cry of pain. He then had to wait in pain and folded in on himself for them all to leave the compartment. Malfoy told Pansy to go on ahead and before Harry could move to check what Malfoy was hiding there was a shout of “ _Petrificus Totalus_

Harry could not even panic properly as his whole body went rigid and he fell from his hiding place, landing on the floor with a thud and his leg hitting one of the seats before joining the rest of his body. Right at Malfoy’s feet. His invisibility cape was caught under him and revealed him plainly to the blonde who sneered at him.

“I was right then. The jammed door, the flash of something near Blaise’s seat, and the suitcase hitting you. You were hidden here like a rat. How fitting Potter. All in vain as well, you didn’t hear anything interesting did you?” he finished with a sneer and kicked Harry hard in the face. He felt his nose break and blood pouring out and all he could do was stare soundlessly up at Malfoy feeling a burst of hatred so strong his insides were likely to rip apart if they could actually move.

“That’s from my father… I would have actually asked you about that new mudblood friend of yours but I can see you’re too busy choking on your own blood to talk. I’ll just have to confront him myself. Now let’s get you all hidden. There, now have a horrible trip back to London.” Malfoy covered him with the cape before stepping savagely on his fingers and leaving.

Harry was immobilized and just as he was about to feel a rush of helpless panic at the thought of choking on the blood filling his mouth, he heard a familiar voice that would've made him cry with relief if he could.

“That was quite the conversation you were having with yourself, Malfoy. Is the fear of failing your Lord so large and looming you have started losing it?” Riddle asked.

“You fucking mudblood, _Calvorio!_ ” Malfoy screamed. There was a flash of purple light, but Harry heard the telltale sound of a spell bouncing off a protection charm. “

"Trying to make me lose my hair? How vicious, but you’re very slow Malfoy. Did mommy and daddy not teach you to not attack someone you have no chance of beating?” Another scream, “Crucio!” Malfoy let out and Riddle whistled. "An unforgivable in the middle of the train? Why Malfoy, are you trying to join daddy so soon?" Riddle seemed to have cast two spells rapidly one after the other as he talked. "You know what, don't answer that. I would advise you to walk back down the train and be careful not to trip too much, those boils will not make for a very pleasant walk.”

Riddle sounded vicious. Harry had never heard the other teen’s voice turn so cold and merciless and he was glad the two of them were allies. Harry would have sighed in relief but he remembered Riddle did not know he had his cape. Oh, Merlin’s bloody bollocks he was buggered wasn’t he? The panic that overtook him yet again like a fucking gripe was released again as Riddle opened the compartment door and immediately removed the cape from him. All Harry could do was blink owlishly at Riddle.

“You broke our deal Potter, I should just let you stay here until someone else finds you.” Harry panicked slightly, Riddle wouldn’t really do that, would he? They were allies, weren’t they? Holy merlin’s balls! He was leaving, wasn’t he? He saw a flash of red light and was able to move again. 

“Let’s hurry before the last thestral carriage leaves,” Riddle said coldly.

Harry got up with great pain but hurried along after Riddle and jumped out of the train with relief. It looked there was still one carriage left and Harry thought he saw Tonks looking at the one that had just taken off. They ran to the carriage and got in with a couple of seventh years Hufflepuffs who Harry recognised as some of Cedric’s avid supporters who had hated him in his fourth year and blamed him for Cedric's death in his fifth.

He ignored them and how they stared at the blood that was caked in his nose, and tried to catch Riddle’s eyes but the other really was avoiding his gaze looking silently furious.

Harry felt a bit guilty at that. He had broken his promise, and all he’d earned from it was a minor piece of information and a lot of pain. Oh and Riddle’s ire.

Harry tried to apologise even as his clogged broken nose made him sound horrible. “I’m forry Riddle, I am. You were right, I fould ave old you. May'e if I had you would habe co'e up with a befer pan. ” Riddle was still looking out of the window but his clenched jaw had relaxed so Harry felt he was on the right track. “You can afk me anyfing you want. Anyfhing and I fwear I will anfwer fruffully.” he tried to go another about this in another way and sure enough it seemed to work as brown eyes finally met his. “Will you honor this deal?” Harry supposed that was fair. He never expected he would be called out on being dishonorable by Tom fucking Riddle but his life had always been a mix between sad tragic irony and loss and a trainwreck. “I fwear it on everyfing facred to me.” Riddle seemed to be considering him for a second. “I don’t give out a lot of second chances, Potter. We do this together and we share everything or we don’t and we each go our own way.”

“Yesh of courfe.” Harry felt a bit ridiculous talking with a stuffed broken nose and Riddle seemed to think so as well as he shook his head with a half-smile. Harry gave him one of his own, mostly relieved. “Stay perfectly still. I’ll fix your nose.” Harry was not sure he would trust anyone but Madame Pomfrey to heal him but he was hardly in a place to refuse Riddle’s help so he closed his eyes and hoped for the best. He felt a sudden heat in his nose before it turned to extreme cold. He carefully touched his nose and found it as straight as it had been before and completely painless. He was healed completely.

“Thank you!” he beamed but Riddle sighed. “I still have to clean your face. Unless you want everyone to think you’ve dipped your lower face in a bloody carcass?” Harry nodded and with a small wave of his hand his face felt cleansed.

“How did you even find me? I mean how did you know where to look, you were there right as Malfoy left.” 

Riddle crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “I had just finished speaking with Slughorn when I saw you take out a bundle of cloth—that turned out to be a bloody invisibility cape—and drop it on your head like you weren’t completely in public and anyone could have seen you. I followed you then and saw your little trick with the door so I went back to our compartment, changed into my robes, and waited in the hallway in case of a problem. All the while, of course, I was thinking about how you hid your cape from me, and didn’t even wait for me for one minute before doing your foolhardy plan.”

Harry looked at the two Hufflepuffs in their carriage but they seemed to be in their conversation “I cast a charm as soon as I came in. I knew you would not help yourself from wanting to talk about things.” Harry smiled. “You mean you were hoping I would apologise. Well, I guess you feel very smug about that don’t you?” Riddle smiled slightly and Harry felt content.

"It also helped that you sounded absolutely ridiculous groveling with a broken nose," Riddle added with a smile and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. _Prat._

This afternoon had been completely horrible but at least he was not on his way back to London by now slowly choking on his own blood. Malfoy was going to pay so hard. “What did you do to Malfoy by the way? And I can’t believe the git threw an unforgivable at you.”

“Yeah with the aim of a myopic geriatric.” Harry snorted. “And all I did was throw a Confundus charm at him and this charming little curse that makes boils grow between his toes. Not that hard to counter but very unpleasant when walking."

Harry chuckled feeling a sardonic smile grow on his face. “He hates your guts by the way. Most of what I overheard was about how much he hated you and how he wished he could hex all your hair off. I guess he was not lying about that one.” Tom shrugged. “His grandfather seemed to have more sense than him, he knew never to take me on.”

Harry’s mouth dropped. “Oh right, you studied with his grandfather, merlin! Is that how you knew I was a Potter the first time we met? I didn’t give it much thought back then.”

“Yes, although I didn’t study in Hogwarts with any Potter. I saw your grandfather Fleamont Potter in the prophet.” Harry leaned in his seat eager to learn about his grandfather. It really was sad how little he knew about his family. “Really? Why has he featured?”

“Well, he definitely wasn’t there for winning the Order of Merlin or because of some Dark scar.” Riddle joked, “I believe he had invented a Sleakeazy potion to help style hair. It had been all the rage then, especially in America. He must have at least tripled the Potter fortune when he sold his company.”

Harry had not known any of this. How was it that no one told him any of this? It sure would have beat hearing for the nth about how brave his parents had been. “That’s mad… I don’t even know when he died or how. All I know for sure is that by the time Voldemort killed my parents I had no living blood relative except my aunt and cousin.”  
Riddle shrugged as if to say _that’s life, mate_ and for some reason his complete indifference made Harry feel a bit better. No pity or even some of his fake politeness. It was definitely refreshing as Slughorn had said.

The carriage started slowing down by then and Harry looked out the window and saw they had finally arrived at Hogwarts. The last of the first years were still coming through the doors as Harry and Tom stepped out of the carriage completely ignoring the other two Hufflepuffs. As soon as they entered the castle, McGonagall accosted them, a frown on her face and most of the first years huddled behind her looking anxious. She immediately zeroed in on Harry, looking him up and down and noticing his lack of robes. “Did not have time to change, Potter?” Harry smiled sheepishly. “Five points from Gryffindor for your lack of appropriate attire,” she said dryly and Harry couldn’t help but wince. Starting off the year in a great manner, wasn’t he? 

“Hurry along now, Potter. Go join your housemates at the banquet, the ceremony is about to start.” she then turned to Riddle. “And you must be Mr. Jedusor?” he heard her ask before he hurried along to the Great Hall, not willing to risk her docking Gryffindor anymore points.

Hermione and Ron waved at him and he was grateful for having them in his life once again as he walked fast and slid in the space between them.“What took you so long? We tried waiting for you but—Harry is that blood on your shirt?” Hermione’s question turned into a hiss by the end. Harry looked down at his collar that there was indeed some dark red spots. Well, at least Riddle took care of the more obvious blood on Harry's face.

“What happened to you, Harry?”

“I’ll tell you after,” he said tersely.

There was a bit of commotion as Hagrid entered the Hall, he took his seat and waved at the three of them. Harry waved back and looked at a loud clunk coming from the Slytherin table and turned only to see that Malfoy had fallen on the floor and was trying to sit back with what looked like great difficulty, hissing as his feet kicked the table. Pansy was cautiously trying to help and Crabbe laughed. Harry shared a chuckle with Ron. Riddle was a blessing, wasn’t he? To think not only did he help him out he made sure Malfoy would have one terrible night.

“Jedusor cast a Confundus at him and some curse that gave him boils on his feet,” he excitedly whispered to Ron, hoping Hermione wouldn’t hear. Of course, that was in vain as she inhaled sharply. Ron just laughed harder. “What? He did what? Harry did he and you confront Malfoy? Is that why you were late?”

The sorting hat started his song then and Harry was glad for the chance to not reply to Hermione and just shrug at her. The song seemed to be more than just his generic descriptions of the four houses and was focusing more on staying united despite everyone’s differences. Yeah, fat chance Slytherins would abide by that.

McGonagall started calling out the first years and Riddle came forward and stood just behind her. Riddle's presence did not take long to be noticed as Harry saw several girls whispering to each other and pointing at him, while most guys threw him a cursory glance and didn’t seem to care much. 

“Who’s that fit bloke behind McGonagall?” Harry heard Parvati ask Lavender and couldn’t help but cringe. He had called Riddle fit this morning too didn’t he? Harry was a total disaster. “I don’t know, but I hope he’s staying the whole year.”

Harry glanced at the other tables and almost regretted it when his eyes landed on Cho who was staring at Riddle quite openly. 

Harry was clapping automatically whenever some new first-year was sorted into Gryffindor and at one point couldn’t help but stare at Riddle who was crouched down next to a first-year girl. One of the two he had stolen the compartment from, Harry recognised after a beat. She looked to be quite anxious as her bold friend had just been sorted into Gryffindor. The girl stopped shaking by the time her name was called but her face was tomato red after Riddle had ruffled her short black hair. This was insane. How was this Harry’s life?

He chanced a look at the staff table and found both Slughorn and Dumbledore looking at Riddle intently. The first with what seemed like the start of a smile and the second with a pensive look. Snape seemed to have noticed the Headmaster’s interest in Riddle as well since he was glaring at him suspiciously. Snape must have also felt Harry staring at him because the crook nosed bastard turned his glower on him and Harry nodded mockingly, mimicking Riddle’s condescension.

“That bloke might be a bookworm but he’s a fiery one isn’t he? He also sure knows how to make an impression. D’you think he’d get sorted in Gryffindor? Is he even gonna get sorted?” Ron asked and Harry shrugged. He really was not sure what the deal with Riddle would be. Had there ever been any non-first-year new student showing up? He was about to ask Hermione when Dumbledore stood up after the last boy was sorted in Hufflepuff.

“How wonderful to see all of your familiar faces as well as the new faces we have the pleasure of welcoming. I take it that, judging from the whispers and pointed fingers, all of you have noticed the young wizard standing behind Professor McGonagall?” No one said a word and Dumbledore seemed to take that as a confirmation. “This young man is a new transfer student. A very rare occurrence here in Hogwarts but his family was tragically killed recently and he could not continue his home tutoring. I have thus allowed him to enroll with you all as a sixth-year student. Thomas Jedusor if you would please step up to the hat to get sorted.”

Riddle walked to the small chair but did not sit on it. Harry was somewhat looking forward to Riddle sitting on that small stool and looking ridiculous but of course, he had more sense than that. Instead, Riddle bowed his head slightly and let McGonagall drop the hat on his head. Unlike most first years, it did not fall down and cover his face but seemed to fit him quite well.

Harry had expected an immediate shout of Slytherin, considering Riddle was the descendant of the actual founder of the house, but was surprised as the silence stretched and everyone looked on curiously.

Finally, after a minute or so the hat screamed “Gryffindor!” and Harry’s jaw dropped. 

_What the absolute fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's that lol. I tried my hand at a bit more lighthearted writing at times this chapter, especially since Harry's POV finally and I missed him. IMO he is a sassy sarcastic and funny dude and I wanted that to show. Hope you guys liked the interactions with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione I know I had fun writing them. I just love all these dorks.
> 
> I'm pretty sure y'all are like huh?? Tom in Gryffindor? but to me the whole putting someone in Slytherin cuz they're a descendant of the founder of the house is a bit eh. And as you've seen this Tom is much more confrontational and daring also involvement from a twinkly-eyed headmaster as well as a young parseltongue user might be in play. We'll see about this in the next chapter.
> 
> Ofc I'm sure you know by now but since I didn't tag it I'll just say here that there is no character bashing, at least I will try my hardest not to accidentally step into bashing anyone, they're just imperfect people and they fuck up at times. 
> 
> Next Chapter is rest of welcoming feast, the start of lessons mainly potions and defence and most likely start of the Dumbledore private lessons.


	7. Silent Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous best friends,a bully/teacher/bat? and potion accidents? Harry has not even been in Hogwarts for twenty-four hours yet and it's all a garbage fire already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter and please read the endnotes there's some added information about the uploading schedule!!

Harry was still reeling from the sorting hat’s scream that he barely heard Hermione mutter in a bit of a disappointed tone “So, not a hat stall after all. I thought we could witness our first one.” and he couldn't care less. He could not even be arsed to clap along with everyone else. Instead, he threw an affronted look at Dumbledore who winked at him and Harry then got it. Oh so _he_ had something to do with it then.

Felling slightly placated by the fact that this had been the headmaster's doing somehow, (only Dumbledore would be able to convince the hat to disregard Tom’s blatant Slytherin traits after all) Harry reluctantly joined his fellow house students in welcoming Riddle to Gryffindor. It didn’t come as much of a surprise that all of the over-the-top and enthusiastic cheers were from girls, considering their previous piqued interest in what they probably considered a shiny new player in the field.

Glancing at Parvati and Lavender, Harry noticed the two of them had somehow made it into a game of who would cheer the loudest and Parvati was winning by far. Hermione had a smile on her face as she clapped and the tiny blonde girl from the train was at the front of the table almost vibrating with joy. Her enthusiasm seemed to triple after Riddle winked at her as he walked past her and in their own direction. 

“Over here, Tom,” Hermione said after she shifted away from Harry and freed some space between them. Riddle slid in gracefully and smiled pleasantly at Hermione.

“Please enjoy the feast everyone.” Dumbledore’s voice boomed before he settled back down in his seat, his eyes twinkling as he looked at the Gryffindor trio Riddle just casually turned into a quartet. Harry repressed a sigh and reminded himself that he and Riddle were mostly doing okay now so having to spend so much time together would mean he’d have better odds at keeping an eye on him. 

A few seconds after the headmaster settled back in his throne-like chair, there seemed to be an expectant silence before hundreds of plates and dishes filled with all kinds of delicacies Harry had missed dearly suddenly appeared on the four tables. Ron wasted no time in grabbing a handful of fries that he shoved rather savagely in his mouth, letting out a moan that Harry was sure would earn him a frown from Mrs. Weasley and intense teasing from Ginny. Harry dropped that particular train of thought in favor of filling his own plate with about five fried chicken legs and four handfuls of fries. 

Nothing like good oily comfort food to try and forget the shitshow that has been his life for the whole day, but of course, he could not eat in peace as just as he was about to bite into a particularly appetising quiche, Riddle shifted and leaned closer to him.

“I have to say I have always been curious about the Gryffindor common room, the color palette will take some getting used to though,” Riddle whispered, his breath on Harry’s ears making him shiver and swallow his bite of quiche without chewing it properly. Gulping down a glass of pumpkin juice, Harry had to clear his throat before he turned to Riddle and leaned to whisper back. “How the bloody hell did you even convince the hat to put you anywhere but Slytherin?” The moment he got close enough to Riddle he involuntarily took a whiff of vanilla and lavender he had grown to find quite soothing after he smelled it the whole trip on the train and then again when he was being saved from a full body bind curse. 

Riddle smiled at him brightly “Tell you later,” he said with a wink and Harry saw from the corner of his eyes Parvati missing her mouth with a spoon full of soup and instead slobbering it on her chin as she stared at Riddle.

_This is ridiculous_.

Was Riddle handsome? Yes, he was. Did he look really great in red and gold? Yes, he also did. In fact, Harry was surprised that the colors suited him so well. Who would’ve known Riddle’s red and gold tie would pair so well with his skin tone and his chocolate brown eyes, and...What was Harry trying to internally argue on again? He sighed and turned back to the very tasty quiche that he finished earnestly.

“Tom, what happened with you and Harry? You told us you would check on him but the two of you almost missed the sorting ceremony.” Harry heard Hermione ask and finally snapped out of it.

Harry shifted in his seat and replied before Riddle even opened his mouth. “I sneaked into Malfoy’s compartment and he caught me with a full-body bind curse. Jedusor tried to confront him but Malfoy started calling him that nasty slur of course.” Ron heard Harry’s serious tone and leaned in to listen, while Riddle sipped from his glass of orange juice as he shifted closer to Harry so Hermione would not be almost sprawled over him in order to listen. The warm feel of Riddle’s thigh pressed against his felt somehow different than Ron’s, but then again Harry and his best friend rarely sat this close.

“So the blood…?” Hermione hesitated, and Harry guessed she probably had drawn an accurate picture of what had happened.

Having to recount the events on the train was not something he looked forward to considering it was one of his worst and most embarrassing failures but he grimaced through the retelling “Malfoy noticed me so he waits until everyone else leaves, petrifies me then kicks me in the face, really hard.” Ron hissed in sympathy before muttering a curse and squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “Bloody hell mate. He’s a real wanker, isn’t he? So is that what made you curse him, Jedusor?” Ron asked,

Riddle shook his head. “ He had gone out of the compartment by the point I saw him and I was about to ask him about Potter but he went mental and threw a hair removal curse at me, then the Cruciatus curse right after.” 

Hermione gasped and Ron looked at Harry as if to check if Riddle were telling the truth. Harry nodded grimly. “He screamed it in the middle of the train like he was barely in control of his emotions or could not care who heard or saw. His anger for Jedusor was making him more reckless than he’d been before. You guys should have heard how long Malfoy kept ranting about Jedusor. A whole fifteen minutes or something? The git absolutely hates him.”

Harry almost mentioned how he thought Malfoy was acting so bold because of his almost certain new status as a Death Eater but he swallowed his thoughts for now. 

“Well after what you said to him at Madam Malkin’s…” Hermione started,

“Are you seriously blaming him right now ‘Mione?” Ron cried out loudly earning them the stares of everyone around them. The four of them quieted down as they waited for everyone to go back to their own conversations and Harry managed to eat two pieces of chicken wings before Hermione whispered, sounding offended.

“Of course I’m not blaming him, Ron! I was just saying that Tom’s jabs would explain Malfoy’s hatred.” she turned to Riddle, “Of course the fact that you’re a muggle-born only added to his anger at your remarks. Somehow, hearing us stand up to them makes wizards like Malfoy absolutely lose it.” Harry remembered all the times Malfoy got furious whenever Hermione confronted him or bested him and couldn’t help but agree. Some purebloods were absolute garbage. “...attacked you unprovoked like that is despicable! And to use an unforgivable too? What is wrong with him?”

Harry snorted and completely dropped his earlier attempts to stop himself from mentioning the Death Eater angle.“You _know_ what’s wrong with him. He’s emboldened by his new position or he’s too stressed out about it that he absolutely hates Jedusor who might as well be a reminder he’s going to fail immensely, and so all he cares about is putting him in his place,” 

Hermione looked geared up to say something but another clang from the Slytherin table interrupted them and this time Malfoy looked to have dropped his bowl of soup all over himself. He met their looks and positively glowered at Riddle who whispered. “Oh no, you poor clumsy thing.” in such a fake commiserating way that it effectively deflated the building tension.

Ron and Harry laughed the loudest and Tom let out a small chuckle. Even Hermione seemed to be struggling to keep a stern expression as her lips were twitching. “Mate, that is bloody brilliant, you’re like Malfoycide or something,” Ron said, and Riddle inclined his head. 

Hermione had regained her disapproving frown at that point and Harry’s remarks apparently forgotten, she turned to Riddle again.“It was still dangerous to do what you did, Tom. Aurors were in the station! What if someone had seen you?” she whispered reproachingly.

“I’m pretty sure they’d have focused more on the Death Eater’s son who just cast the unforgivable not the bloke defending himself. Just lay off Hermione.”

Hermione looked frustrated. “I know! But Tom wasn’t just defending himself, the spells he cast were clearly offensive and meant to hurt, and could be ground for major punishment.”

Harry was getting where Hermione was coming from, but he was also somewhat annoyed with this whole thing, he was about to stand up for Riddle but of course, the other teen beat him to it.

“You’re right, of course.” Hermione gave a satisfied nod and Harry rolled his eyes as he bit into a meat pie. “But here’s the thing, I was not exactly being rational. Potter and I are just building a friendship and well, to hear him getting his face kicked as he laid defenceless and was taunted by a bigot who then proceeded to throw an unforgivable at me... I just wanted to make the smug git pay.”

Harry chewed carefully, trying to discern if Riddle’s words were true or not. Harry definitely felt they were growing a bit closer and would feel comfortable calling the other his friend if he knew for sure he wasn’t just being played with.

Hermione sighed “I guess I should have known after Madam Malkin’s and your little adventure in Knockturn Alley you’re just as bad as Harry and Ron,” Ron who had started biting on a very juicy piece of lamb meat let out an affronted hey! that went ignored. “Even if you are much more level-headed, you are still a reckless boy at heart.” she shook her head and took a bite of her slice of meat pie.

She swallowed the bite and went on “I’m not saying this just to be a stick in the mud. I’ve come to quite like having you around, Tom. I’m sure Ron feels the same, judging by how many times you made him laugh. Also, Harry and you keep having hushed conversations and already have a dynamic so we would all hate it if you got expelled or in trouble, okay?” Hermione smiled and brushed his hand for a bit. Ron choked on his meat at that exact moment and Harry passed him a glass of water.

Harry couldn’t exactly dispute her words either as he chewed on a particularly soft and juicy piece of lamb meat. It had always been Ron, Hermione, and him and it always will be. However, so far Riddle seemed to fit in as well as Ginny. The fact he was their year would mean they will also have much more time spent together and that could only deepen their connection. 

Riddle seemed to be at a loss for words or he made himself seem that way in any case and ate a piece of chicken as if to give himself some time to think on what to say. “I- Thank you. I’ve never quite had friends before and this is all new to me, so I might not always know how to act or react but I feel the same about you three.”

“Great,” Harry said to end the conversation as he saw Nearly-Headless Nick floating their way and quite a few curious eyes trained on them.

He grabbed a final handful of fries right before they were replaced by a chocolate cake. It seemed it was time for dessert already. Harry mostly ignored Nick as he was too busy eating treacle tart and trying not to stare too openly at Riddle who had some chocolate on his chin. After a while, Ron managed to offend the Gryffindor ghost who was now floating away after he’d welcomed Riddle and tried to subtly ask about Harry’s Chosen one status. A subject of conversation that was even more popular than Riddle’s sudden appearance to Harry’s annoyance. 

“Ri-Jedusor, you have some chocolate on your chin,” Harry said finally and watched as Riddle paused mid-bite of what looked like a lemon tart.

The other teen appeared to be looking for a napkin before he tried wiping the chocolate with his tongue and Harry followed the movement closely with his eyes. His mouth suddenly dry, Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice and turned fully to Riddle. “Here let me,” he said and wiped the offensive spot with much more force than necessary. “Didn’t have to tear my chin off with it Potter,” Riddle said and Harry snorted, the tension from before leaving his body just as quickly as it started. _What a big baby_

“Here’s a napkin Tom, you have some on your nose too,” Hermione said once Riddle turned around and the other teen seemed to blush for a bit before clearing his throat.

“Thank you and I apologise, I really love chocolate cake and I haven't had any since…quite a while. It seems Weasley and I have that in common.” 

Harry snorted as he shoved a big piece of treacle tart in his mouth and Hermione chuckled at Ron’s “Wassat?” mouth full of chocolate cake.

“Hermione?” came a saccharine-sweet voice that Harry rarely heard Parvati use. She and Lavender had big charming smiles plastered on their faces and were throwing Riddle what Harry perceived as somewhat stupid looks. They were blinking quite a lot. “Yes, Parvati?” asked Hermione with a bemused look.

“You never introduced us to your new… friend? When did you even meet him for that matter?” 

“Oh well, seeing as Professor Dumbledor already talked a bit about me, I was planning on doing a proper introduction of myself once we got to the dorm, but I suppose during dinner would be a good time as well,” Riddle said in a voice that made it seem like it was gauche for Parvati to be asking in the middle of dinner. Harry smiled into his cup and Hermione let out an amused huff.

“I’m Thomas Jedusor, but I usually go by Tom. I used to be tutored by my family until a recent attack on my village left me the sole survivor.” There were a few gasps from around the table as clearly so many were listening. Parvati and Lavender both let out wounded noises as if they just saw a puppy get kicked and even Katie Bell and her friend who were on the right side of Parvati looked sympathetic. Riddle paused for a bit. “But it’s all good, Professor Dumbledore helped me heal and I actually got to stay in the castle for a bit in the summer which was a dream of mine.”

Before the girls could say anything, Dumbledore got up from his chair and the conversation died down as he walked to the podium. Opening his arms as if willing to hug the whole great hall, the headmaster started in his kind voice. “I wish you all once again and properly this time, a warm welcome to Hogwarts, the place I hope many of you will grow to think of as a second home if you have not already.” 

Murmurs started between students as they noticed his wounded dried out arm and this only earned a smile from Dumbledore before he promptly hid it with his sleeve.

“Nothing to be worried about,” he assured everyone in quite a detached manner that Harry didn’t very much like.

“His hand was already like this when we saw him this summer. I thought it would have healed by now.” Harry whispered to Riddle and Hermione.

“It looks dead. There are some wounds you cannot heal...” Hermione said and Riddle added “It appears to be a curse. They are not very pleasant or easy to heal if at all.” Harry turned to him sharply, and Riddle shook his head at him. ”Not hard to assume seeing as, like Hermione said, it seems to be completely shriveled out of life.” he said.

“...Those who wish to join the Quidditch team should see to it that their names are registered with the head of their house. Moving on, I would like to say that I am happy to welcome one of my oldest colleagues and dear friend, Horace Slughorn to the Hogwarts teaching staff. Horace has graciously accepted to take back his role of Hogwarts Potions Master and will be teaching Potions.” Dumbledore went along and the hall erupted in chaos as _Potions_ echoed around all four tables.

Harry looked at Ron then at Hermione who were both throwing him confused looks while Riddle calmly bit at a cookie. “You knew Slughorn teaches Potions?” he asked and suddenly the whole thing with the potion in Slughorn’s compartment made sense. Zabini had also talked about how Slughorn had had Snape as a prodigy student or something. Merlin’s bollocks Harry could be really dumb sometimes.

Dumbledore waited for a bit until the chaos subsided before he continued, “Professor Severus Snape, meanwhile, will be taking the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

“The fuck!” Harry screamed so loud half the Gryffindor table turned to look at him.

“Harry, you never said…”

“I didn’t know! I only started realising it earlier today on the Hogwarts Express but I didn’t have time to process things properly.” He turned to Riddle with a frown. “You knew he was a potions professor, though. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Riddle just started nibbling on another triple chocolate chip cookie. He swallowed and Harry focused on his stupid hair that was parted at the middle and framed his face in a way that was as annoying as he was being right now. “You never brought it up, and when I asked you why you weren’t buying potion ingredients at the apothecary all you said was that you dropped Potions, remember?” 

Harry racked his brain trying to think of some instance he had asked about it only for Riddle to lie to him but found none. He sighed and admitted to himself it was his own lack of insight that was to blame. It didn’t matter though, he still only got an E in potions.

Harry let go of that train of thought in favor of gauging Snape’s reaction to the announcement and he was disgusted to see the look of triumph on that descipable face he loathed with fervor.

After a beat though, Harry smiled his own triumphant smile as he thought of what him having this post would mean.

“Oh the evil nasty Potter smile, what brought that on?” asked Riddle and Harry smirked. “The defence post is cursed, every year the professor is removed and we get a new one the year after. Our first year there was even a death, and our fourth year too, though technically he got kissed by a Dementor. Snape being the DADA professor means he’ll leave by the end of this year one way or another. Personally, I’m hoping for another gruesome death.” Harry said with a vicious smile and Hermione reprimanded him, scandalised. He ignored her though as Riddle’s eyes had taken on an intensity he had never seen before. Harry stared at the deep brown eyes and raised a challenging brow.

 _Probably not what you expected is it?_

Harry knew he was not some kind of innocent, light-hearted wizard who was all rainbows and unicorns. After all, he had a small list of people—that included Umbridge and Snape and had Pettigrew at the top along with Voldemort—that he would most likely not bat an eye at if he ever saw their death. He most definitely would never do it himself, but he will not go out of his way to save them either.

“Maybe Snape will just reprise his old job at the end of the year. Slughorn will probably wanna retire again or something.” Ron said more reasonably but was ignored as Dumbledore cleared his throat before he went on to talk about how Voldemort was back and that he and his followers were starting to gain more and more power yet again. He then moved on to the new security and precautionary measures taken by the school in order to afford them a safe stay.

“Professor McGonagall told me to go with the fifth-year prefect back to the dorms, I’ll see you three there,” Riddle said as Dumbledore finished his speech and the noise from the hundred students getting up to leave was almost deafening. 

Harry caught Riddle’s arm before he could fully get up. He needed to keep an eye on him, that was probably even Dumbledore’s reasoning behind arranging for Riddle’s sorting.

“Ron and Hermione are prefects, and we’re all heading there. McGonagall would hardly fault you for coming with your new friends would she?” he asked with a small smile he hoped wasn’t too easy to read for Riddle and was relieved when the other nodded easily.

“Of course. I’m assuming we’re taking our time before leaving?” 

Harry nodded and turned to his two best friends. Both had been looking at him and while Ron looked to be angrily frowning, Hermione quickly hid an amused smile when their eyes met. 

“I just saw Malfoy mime something with his nose to his mates, I was about to send him a stinging hex but…”

Hermione was glancing worriedly at the pile of first years and the fifth year Gryffindor prefects who were still looking for someone it seemed. “But you’re a prefect in the great hall. Ignore him, he’s just trying to divert from the fact he was Confunded for the entirety of dinner. He was also glowering at you Tom, so it’s good you stayed. I doubt he’d try anything but best you be here than at the end of the line with the first years. I’m sure that’s why Harry told you to stay too.” she said with mirth at the end and Harry frowned at her. What was up with her? “I have to go now boys. Be careful, and see you tomorrow.”

Harry waved at her and turned to Ron and told him everything he had overheard Malfoy talk about. He’d related Mafloy’s words and was disappointed to see Ron’s reaction had not been what he expected. It seemed like he was being obstinate for the sake of it and was frowning at Riddle who hummed.

“Harry, come on, he was probably trying to impress Parkinson or something… What possible mission could You-Know-Who give him?”

Before Harry could retort Riddle said exactly what he had in mind. “I’d wager a mission only someone inside Hogwarts could achieve.” Harry turned to him beaming and clapped his shoulder without much thought.

“Exactly! You read my mind, and—”

“Who even asked you Jedusor?” Ron asked in a cold tone that had Harry frowning.

“Well Potter asked me to stay and was talking with a voice and in a range I could listen to quite easily. So I’d say he did.” came Riddle’s amused reply. Harry cringed at the condescending smile Riddle had on. Ron was not going to take it well at all.

“Oh sod off, Harry was asking me. He wanted his best mate’s opinion not yours. If he’d wanted to hear your stupid rubbish logic he’d have come to you.” Ron said, his ears growing red. “And honestly Harry, just because he’s going along with your crazy theories you basically indulge a complete stranger and tell him everything?” 

What the fuck? Harry felt himself getting defensive and angrier by the second but a hand subtly squeezed his arm just as a loud booming voice startled him. Riddle quickly took off his hand and Harry turned to the side and saw Hagrid beaming down at them. His smile seemed to dim a bit when he saw Riddle was right behind Harry, though. Oh right, probably not the greatest feeling to see the one who you think is the grandson of the bloke who got you expelled and forced you to use a pink umbrella as a wand. 

Hagrid seemed to force through his own awkwardness and they all were subjected to an update on how his giant half-brother was doing. Harry was avoiding meeting Ron’s gaze but made the mistake of looking at Riddle and had to hide a smile at the barely disguised disdain on his face. Hagrid was his friend and he would defend him to the end of the earth and back but the mess with his brother was wholly off-putting. The happy mention in passing that he would be seeing them in class tomorrow before leaving seemed to break the ice that was between Ron and Harry as they grimaced once he left.

“You’re not taking his class are you?” Harry asked Ron who just shook his head. “What about you?” he asked and Harry shook his head as well.

“I’m guessing Hermione isn’t either, is she?” asked Ron, knowing the answer already. It was going to be really awkward with Hagrid this year.

They made their way to the seventh floor and then to Gryffindor Tower in a bout of charged and somewhat awkward silence. Hermione had already gone to bed by the time they came into the common room and when Ron threw a glance and saw that Harry was settling next to Riddle in front of the fireplace to talk about what happened in the train, he scoffed and got up the stairs two by two.

“Your friend seems to be jealous of us,” Riddle answered Harry’s own growing questions. 

He turned to him with a frown. “He’s what? No... why would he? Oh bollocks he is, isn’t he?” Harry ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. But why? Ron seemed to be taking his new…tentative _something_ with Riddle quite well even during the feast.

“I apologise if I’m causing you trouble. I just wanted to support your idea since I saw it shot down almost immediately.” Harry considered Riddle with a frown, was he being truthful? 

It didn’t matter, he was not jeopardizing his five years friendship with Ron for something so trivial. _Not that their friendship was in jeopardy or anything_ Harry reassured himself. The two of them had worse fights than this, the most notable one was two years ago and this was not anything even close.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Just don’t antagonise him.” Harry warned, feeling bone tired. Riddle nodded easily enough “I won’t. I quite like being part of your little clique so I won’t be rocking the boat. Just make sure Hermione doesn’t find out about this. I think her involvement in this matter would only worsen the situation.” Harry sighed and acquiesced. 

Nobody did anything worth an apology so just a calm-headed conversation would hopefully suffice.

* * *

It turned out a full night of sleep was all it took for Ron to defrost. Harry couldn’t help but feel that the fact that Riddle had already been gone by the time they both woke up and went down the dormitory's stairs, helped as well. When Harry tentatively wished Ron good morning as they met outside the bathroom, his best friend who was freshly showered smiled at him and acted as if nothing had happened and Harry decided to follow suit. The two of them met up with Hermione in the common area, and Harry finally told her about what he overheard Malfoy saying. 

Hermione ended up having a divided opinion on the matter which apparently suited Ron quite well. He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and scolded a first-year student for being rude with his whispers before chuckling when the tiny boy fell out of the portrait hole in panic. Harry just enjoyed the sense of relief he felt as there wasn’t anything to fix or talk about and Ron seemed pretty content, especially when Lavender Brown giggled furiously at one of his shenanigans with a Fanged Frisbee.

Their subsequent talk about Hagrid as they went down to the great hall was interrupted when Hermione saw Riddle and went to sit right next to him, smiling at him. Harry looked at Ron who—with a forced smile on his face as if he hadn’t, just the night before, passive-aggressively told him to butt out of his and Harry’s conversation—nodded casually at Riddle. Riddle seemed to have brushed it all under the rug as well as he nodded back and handed Ron a plate of eggs when the redhead had asked for it with strained politeness. Ron ate his egg with gusto as he ranted about Care of Magical creatures to Harry and Hermione who flanked him at both sides.

After they had all eaten their breakfast, they, along with the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors, stayed seated as McGonagall started distributing timetables.

Hermione was promptly greenlit by McGonagall NEWT level studies in all the courses she had chosen, which happened to be all the OWLs she passed except History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, and Astronomy. McGonagall then spent quite a bit with Neville convincing him to take Charms before coming over to Riddle.

“Ah Mr. Jedusor, I see you have had an O in all your exams, excellent! I have to say I’m glad a smart student such as yourself was sorted in Gryffindor.” Riddle smiled brightly at her and she seemed to return his smile in a smaller measure. “Should you be interested in signing up for the Quidditch team, just come see me at my office or after class and I will add your name to the list. I’m sure you know Potter is the team captain so he will be in charge of further arrangements.” McGonagall pointed at Harry with a proud barely-there smile and he couldn’t help a small smile back, even if the idea of Voldemort’s teenage self-playing for the Gryffindor team was pretty funny. Then again the other teen played Rugby and he did say he could fly so it was not completely implausible. Harry missed Riddle’s reply and had focused back on the conversation as McGonagall looked down at a piece of parchment in her hands.

“I see here you did not have time to make a choice of the courses you will be taking, so what did you decide on?”

Harry watched as Riddle hummed for a bit as he looked at his hands. “I’ll drop Astrology, Muggle Studies, and History. I would like to take every other course for my NEWTs please.”

McGonagall flicked her wand at an empty schedule. “I will be looking forward to seeing you in my class on Friday, then. I believe you have runes now so here is a pass from me to give to Professor Babbling for tardiness.” she handed him a small slip of paper he promptly stuffed in his pocket. “Will you be able to find your way to class or should I assign someone with free time to help you?” she asked and Riddle shook his head.

“No need professor. I have a very strong memory and I actually passed my ancient runes OWL exam in that classroom. I've also been here for about a week or so and wandered quite a bit. And I think Hermione and I have the same schedule so she could always help me get around after.” 

McGonagall’s lips twisted in a small proud. “All right then, off you go. If you do find yourself getting lost, remember to ask the portraits for help,” she said before she turned to Harry and Ron. 

The two of them were allowed to take all the core courses they planned on taking as well as Potions since apparently Slughorn accepted even those with an E in their OWLs. Harry’s aspirations to be an Auror were concretising once again and he let that small satisfaction carry him back to the common room with Ron to relax for their free hour period before Snape’s hour-long lesson. Wanting to keep a closer eye on Riddle and just avoid any unexpected surprise Harry decided to go up the stairs and get the Marauder map from his trunk and slipped it in his robes.

When Harry and Ron finally arrived at their usual classroom on the third floor that had seen quite a bit of change as each new Professor decorated it their own way, they found Riddle and Hermione already waiting in line. Hermione was looking ruffled and holding multiple books while Riddle looked picture perfect. In fact, Riddle did not have one single hair out of place on his head even though he sported a sort of deliberately messy look that was still much neater than Harry’s own nest of hair he’d tried to brush in vain this morning.

Curious about where exactly Riddle’s books were Harry looked down at his side and saw a fancy messenger bag he was pretty sure was from a famous Muggle fashion brand. It did not look strained at all or like it was carrying half a dozen heavy books so Harry guessed he must have used one of his neat little fit-for-every-day-situations spells.

The two seemed to be in deep conversation about Ancient Runes and barely spared Harry and Ron a smile before Malfoy and his group of goonies arrived. The blonde-haired git’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Riddle as soon as they landed on him. “These filthy mudbloods think they could be disgusting with each other in the hallways at ten in the morning. I’d say we're in need of a major cleanse in here.”

Harry and Ron both tensed at his words and were about to hold out their wands but Hermione shook her head as if to say ignore him but Riddle smiled haughtily at Malfoy.

“Considering just how many times you fell yesterday and even had soup all over yourself, I would say you are indeed quite in need of a cleanse, perhaps to help you keep a clearer head,” Riddle replied nonchalantly. Malfoy’s hand looked about to reach for his wand but the classroom door opened and Snape prompted them all inside with his usual hateful drawl.

Hermione let out a tired sigh and Harry bit his lip as a smile bloomed, even Ron huffed somewhat amusedly as they all filed into the classroom.

When they all settled in their seats; Harry next to Ron and Hermione next to Riddle, Snape started his lesson and went on to talk about the dark arts as if speaking of something dear to his heart, almost in a sensual manner. Harry was disgusted by the crook-nosed git as went on and on about the various pictures he had hung all over the class, looking and sounding positively smug about his new position. 

After a brief talk of Inferi, the course shifted to Nonverbal spells and Snape ignored Hermione’s hand completely after he asked about them and let his gaze fall on Riddle with the same suspicious look he had given him yesterday.

“Let us see what our newest addition to class has to say regarding the matter. Jedusor, do you have an answer ready or was the grade you got in the OWL exam just a fluke?”

Riddle regarded Snape calmly before he turned one of his condescending smiles at Snape. “I do have an answer ready, sir. The first and primary advantage of casting nonverbally is a way of having an advantage on your adversary in dueling for example as they have no idea what your next spell would be. It could also be used by an Auror for example in case of a mission that demands discretion and finally and this is based on my own experience, but a spell cast nonverbally with deep concentration can be twice as effective.”

Snape glowered at Riddle for a bit before he sneered at him “I asked for one answer, Jedusor and I definitely did not ask you for your own take on the matter.” he said.

Riddle politely raised his hand affecting a confused look and Snape snapped “What?”

“WIth all due respect sir, your question was…” he said smarmily

“I know what my question was. ”

“That’s very good sir. Was my answer not correct then?” A few Gryffindors and some Hufflepuffs coughed to hide their chuckles, and Snape sneered looking furious. 

“Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Jedusor,” Snape said and Harry cursed the nasty bat mentally as he saw Malfoy’s smug face. Only Snape would find a way to take away points from a student for giving him a good answer. Arsehole.

“Nevertheless, your answer was… adequate. However, your last point is not accurate so I advise the rest of you to discard that piece of useless information. Nonverbal casting requires a level of concentration and mental fortitude that some of you” his stare at Harry lasted longer than for the rest and Harry clenched his fists “lack formidably.”

As the time came for them to pair up and practice silent casing, Ron immediately grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him to their own corner. Harry just nodded at him, understanding he was feeling a bit territorial with their friendship.

Hermione and Riddle were paired together and while Riddle managed to create a nonverbal shield and then cast a tickling charm at Hermione—after two failed attempts that Harry was sure were done on purpose—Snape just sneered at him. Harry knew that had it been any other professor Riddle would probably have been awarded twenty points for that feat. Fuck Snape.

“Practicing before class Jedusor? Are you really that desperate to look good in class? Move over Granger. I will be your opponent and show you all how it ought to be. You will use Defense spells only Jedusor.”

Before he had even finished his sentence he had fired a red spell at Riddle who deflected easily with a shield and made Snape have to jump a bit to avoid the ricochet. Snape frowned at that and sent several spells, one after the other at Riddle who deflected all of them. Harry kept his eyes fixed on Riddle and noticed that there was a bead of sweat coming down the side of his face. The sight would’ve most likely brought Harry some type of satisfaction seeing as Riddle was usually very much in control and poised, but his opponent was Snape so Harry found himself rooting for Riddle because again _fuck_ Snape.

Snape did not relent at all as the duel progressed but got more and more of a focused look on his face as if he was obsessed with the idea of somehow humiliating Riddle. The curses he was throwing at Riddle that Harry recognised definitely supported that train of thought. The fact that he was not able to do so as easily as he thought made him more determined and shifting to a higher speed of casting that Harry could not help but begrudgingly admire. 

Ron muttered something about how amazing Riddle was for lasting so long and Harry agreed because Snape was duelling in a manner that showed years of experience that Riddle did not have. So while Riddle seemed to be managing quite well so far, Harry doubted he could hold on for much too long. Harry's prediction was proven right as a bright yellow spell seemed to go beyond Riddle's defences and hit him right in the leg. The silent cry of pain he let out made Harry wince and Ron curse. 

There was a beat of silence before someone piped in “Snape won, right? Why isn’t he stopping?” Neville asked from Harry’s right side and Harry’s grip on his wand tightened as he saw what Neville meant: Snape’s sneering face was still focused on casting spells. Any other professor would have ended things right then and there especially as he had proven his point and won but Snape carried on until Riddle cast what seemed like a huge shield charm that Snape frowned at.

Riddle took a deep breath and pointed his wand at his right leg and stopped the violent spasming that started as soon as Snape's spell had hit it. Riddle started moving around the class then and dispelled his shield seemingly choosing to evade most of the newer nastier spells Snape was throwing at him. As Riddle got closer to the Slytherin side of the classroom, Harry saw Malfoy aim his wand at the floor and cast what looked like a sticking charm right at the path Riddle was about to step into. Someone vanished the slime-like substance immediately and Harry looked up to see Hermione glaring daggers at Malfoy, who, undeterred, started casting more of the spell and was joined by Nott and Crabbe.

Riddle, sweating profusely, tie askew and hair flying up everywhere, was panting heavily as he took on spell after spell from Snape who, while not giving it his all, was still being more serious than he should be against a sixteen-year-old.

Hermione cried out a _watch out_ to Riddle as he was about to step on a sticking charm that Nott had cast that she couldn’t vanish in time and Riddle looked down at the path. Snape seemed to take advantage of his distraction to send a spell that broke through Riddle’s most recent shielding charm with a bang and a cloud of smoke. There was then a flash of red and Snape’s wand flew from his hand and right into Riddle’s hand.

Harry’s jaw dropped and he wasn’t the only one gobsmacked by what happened as echoes of _no bloody way_ or _fuck_ echoed in the class. Riddle was still panting heavily and seemed to be waddling a bit as he walked over to Snape—who looked absolutely livid and was visibly shaking with anger—and handed him his wand. 

“Sorry sir, it was a reflex, my grandfather always told me if defence is losing, then one should shift to offence.”

Snape opened his mouth, closed it then sneered, sounding barely winded. Then again he had barely moved around the room when he was throwing pretty much every curse he could get at Riddle. “I told you defence spells only, was I unclear?” 

Riddle shook his head looking demure. “No sir, I’m sorry. My mind just went to a really traumatic place and I couldn’t help it.”

Snape scoffed. “Ten points from Gryffindor for not following proper instructions. What are the rest of you fools doing? Get back to it!” 

“The class just ended sir…” said a Slytherin girl Harry did not know or care to know. Hermione was looking worriedly at Riddle who seemed to be trying hard not to wince as he moved back to his chair. His cheeks were flushed in a way Harry had never seen before, and as he walked past the jeers and insults from the Slytherins, his fingers twitched around his wand. 

Harry winced and decided that if any of those Slytherins ever ended up in some nasty freak accident he would not be feeling bad for them at all. Riddle had all rights to take revenge after all. Everyone scrambled back to their bags and left the class just as Riddle stormed out first despite a bit of a limp. Harry looked at Hermione who nodded then at Ron who had a resigned look on his face. They all followed after him and saw him take a portrait shortcut that led to the infirmary. “I told him about a lot of the shortcuts yesterday night,” Harry explained to a visibly confused Hermione and Ron.

Harry was only covering for him because it was part of their deal. Not because he somehow felt defensive of the other teen after he saw Snape’s yellow spell hit him in the leg and the pained look on his features at whatever that had been. Or the way that final extremely powerful spell shattered Riddle’s defences in a cloud of smoke. Not because Harry’s heart felt heavy after he looked at the frustration and hopelessness that took over Riddle’s features as the duel carried on. 

“Tom, wait, please!” Hermione cried out, her voice hoarse like she was holding back tears and Harry could see how flustered she was, and how much she did help Riddle in that unfair impromptu duel that had turned into a group bullying attempt from the Slytherins.

Merlin, Harry hated them! If Riddle's foot had gotten stuck or he'd gotten caught by the other hexes getting thrown at him that Hermione had deflected, Harry’d… He didn’t know what he’d do. This whole thing was infuriating and unfair. Riddle was no saint for sure but he did not deserve to have what Harry suspected was one of the other teen’s worst fears happen. Voldemort hated losing, he hated being humiliated and he hated being bested, and Harry thought those were traits Riddle shared as well. 

“I’m sorry but I would like to be alone for now. I’ll just go to the infirmary to get myself checked out.” Riddle said in a strained voice that held so much anger and fury Harry’s instinct screamed at him in fight or flight. He chose the latter as he put a hand on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s leave him be. He knows we’re here for him if he needs us,” he said and Hermione tried to argue but Ron joined in and put his hand on her other shoulder.

“Harry’s right, sometimes a bloke just needs to be alone to deal with something like this. He still disarmed Snape though so he’s got nothing to be ashamed of. He’ll see that himself eventually.”

Harry highly doubted that would bring any comfort to Riddle and all he could think about during the break was Riddle and what something like this could push him to do. Even after he received and read Dumbledore’s message about his first lesson being scheduled for Saturday, all Harry could think about was how he needed to tell the headmaster about this ordeal and ask him to keep a tighter leash on Snape. A request that would most likely be dismissed by Dumbledore if everything that happened last year was any indication. But Harry would not relent; they needed Riddle on their side and Snape antagonising him was not wise at all.

Why had Snape been so hard on Riddle anyway? That level of obstination and sadism Snape usually only reserved for Harry or Sirius, could it be the greasy-haired arsehole had figured something out? He definitely would be harder to convince of a Death Eater attack seeing as the nasty bat was one himself. Whatever the reason, Snape was poking the metaphorical Blast-Ended Skrewt and Harry was not in the mood of getting stung or blasted. 

After the break, a slightly less distraught and more resigned Hermione headed for her Arithmancy class hoping to talk to Riddle while Harry and Ron went back to the common room and half-heartedly started on the homework Snape had assigned them.

Harry had even less success in writing anything than Ron as he kept discreetly checking the Marauder’s map every five minutes to make sure the Riddle dot was still in the infirmary. He was confused by the fact McGonagall seemed to show up in the infirmary about half an hour in and wondered if she didn’t teach classes this morning. 

Harry and Ron gave up on doing much and went to lunch where they were joined by Hermione who had a pensive frown on her face, “Tom did not come to Arithmancy, could it be that his injuries were more severe than they seemed?” 

“Probably just Pomfrey doing her job and making sure he’s fully healed before making him leave,” Ron assured and Harry was about to agree with him when there was a flash of red in his vision and Ginny sat between him and Ron after waving at Dean. Harry was confused for a bit before he remembered he was now her boyfriend. He hoped dearly he would never walk in on them snogging. The image made him both angry and disgusted for some reason.

“Did something happen with Tom?” she asked without fanfare and all three of them tensed. She noticed their exchanged glances and frowned. “So it did then? Merlin, McGonaggal came back fuming and muttering about the standards of teaching and how new students had to deal with this as well as everything else.” 

Hermione frowned “Wait, Ginny, slow down. What exactly happened?”

The redhead tossed her hair behind her back in her signature move and Harry couldn’t help but admire how pretty it looked. He thought he smelled a faint flower smell that reminded him of the Burrow but dismissed in favor of the pit inside of his stomach over Riddle. _Focus Harry_.

“We were right in the middle of transfiguration class when this seventh-year prefect showed up and was telling McGonagall she was needed urgently in the hospital wing. So she gives us a surprise quiz—which was absolute bollocks by the way who does that? But anyways she leaves for about twenty minutes and comes back all red-faced looking as angry as an affronted hippogriff and muttering what I said before.”

Hermione met Harry’s eyes and they exchanged an uneasy look. The hourglass containing Gryffindor’s points that had been empty, probably because of all the points Snape took from Riddle, suddenly filled with what looked like fifteen points which only served to confuse them even more. They were not the only ones who seemed taken aback by this fact as rarely anyone had any courses in the double lunch period. 

Ron was the one who decided to share what happened to Ginny after she asked yet again what happened to Riddle and she scoffed when he finished “Merlin, Snape is such a git. Not much of a surprise that he didn’t do anything to stop the Slytherins either. Anyways I have to go guys, thanks for telling me. Dean is probably going to whine at me that I didn’t ask him and went to you guys instead but well I figured Tom’s your friend so you would know best.”

Harry grabbed her arm before she turned around “Snape is a git, but don’t antagonise him Gin, all right? He’s even more ruthless this year for some reason.” Ginny smiled at him softly before she pushed his head back playfully. “Look who’s talking! But yes I will be careful with him. Later!” she joined Dean who seemed to have a sour look on his face that disappeared almost immediately as Ginny kissed him in the cheek. Harry turned around before they could do anything more nauseating and found Hermione with her signature pensive look on.

“McGonagall being this upset over something right after Tom goes to the hospital wing, and what Ginny said she was muttering when she came back… It most likely means Madame Pomfrey called her in either at Tom’s request or after seeing the gravity of his state. I mean did you guys see the way his leg started almost vibrating after that spell hit him? Who knows what kind of damage that could do to the muscles or even bones.”

Harry winced as he took a sip of onion soup. Hermione had probably hit the nail right on the head. Except Harry was kind of imagining that it was more a plan of retaliation against Snape than anything else. Riddle would never let what happened to him go. Not only was Riddle humiliated but he was probably taken aback by a professor like Snape who was so set in his ways of bullying students simply because he hated his own life. After all, Slughorn had been Riddle’s potions professor and would have been gushing about him in every lesson, and while Harry remembered how suspicious Dumbledore was of Riddle, the now-headmaster would definitely never take a duel demonstration so far.

Harry could not help however but look forward to how things would escalate from here. No one had ever complained about Snape’s absolutely abhorrent ways of dealing with students before. but then again as Potions Master the crooked nose git rarely had the opportunity to draw his wand at students and was good enough of a teacher that no one could hold anything against him.

* * *

Harry ponders on this issue as they finish their lunch. But has to drop his musings once they go back to the common room and he and Ron are driven to finish their homework by Hermione who greatly accelerates their research as she points them in the right direction of research. Ron sings her praise after they’re finished and Harry watches on amusedly as she blushes slightly before telling them to get up for double potions.

They’re all walking down to the dungeons in relative silence when they come face to face with McGonagall looking flushed and quite upset. The deputy Headmistress notices their presence and stops them with a sign of her hand.

“I was just looking for you three. I assume you were all present during the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson that took place from ten to eleven this morning, correct?” she asks terse and all three of them nod.

“Then I assume you can all tell me what happened exactly?”

Hermione hesitated before she relayed the morning’s events exactly as they had happened. “A group of Slytherins was also blatantly attempting to sabotage him, Professor! I had to keep dismantling their attempts but I wasn’t fast enough at one point and that was when the duel ended and Tom managed to take advantage of the smoke and end the duel by disarming Professor Snape.” she finished, her earlier indignation coming back in full force.

McGonagall looked at Harry and Ron who both nodded before her mouth was set in a grim line. “I see. Follow me then. I had Jedusor escorted to the potions classroom by the head boy.”

They all followed behind her in apprehensive silence as they had rarely seen the transfiguration professor this upset. It didn't help that the stairs decided to play their usual tricks on them just as they were about to step onto the ground floor and instead ended up on the third floor. McGonagall sighed and lead them to a portrait shortcut that led them straight to the entry of the dungeons. “It seems your version of events is far more developed and contradicts that of Jedusor, who claimed that the unknown spell he was hit and that he had managed to reverse mostly by himself was cast by accident by someone from the room and not from the thirty-six-year-old wizard who is supposed to be teaching you all.”

Harry gaped as his earlier suppositions were just shot to hell. Why would Riddle lie about what happened? The three of them exchanged a surprised look and Hermione cried out “That’s not what happened, Professor! We were all there and while Professor Snape never cast anything dark, as far as I could tell, at Tom his spells were far more complicated than anything a sixteen-year-old could handle.”

“Thank you Granger I had found myself very reluctant to accept Jedusor’s version of what happened. Ah here we are, it seems class has already started. You three go on ahead and take a seat.” she said as they finally reached the classroom that had been for so long Snape’s lair of misery.

The door was opened and they could hear Slughorn talking. “Yes, of course, Tom. Absolutely correct, twenty points for Gryffindor for your insightful take on these three potions—” 

“Excuse the interruption Horace but I have these three with me. I was the reason for their tardiness. I hope you do not mind.” 

Slughorn beamed as he saw Harry and shook his head “No! Of course not, no trouble. Here Harry, settle down next to Tom.”

“I could not mention this to you during lunch Horace but Weasley and Potter were not aware you took in students with an EE in their OWLs so they do not have their books or ingredients.” added McGonagall and Slughorn just smiled at Harry “That is no problem, of course, I’m sure someone can lend you a scale, and you can use the ingredients from the cupboard. There are a couple of books in there as well.”  
Harry settled down next to Riddle while Ron took a seat on his other side, Hermione smiled back hesitantly at Riddle as she settled on between him and Ernie McMillan.

The cauldron that was closest to their table let out smoke in a spiral-like shape and had a mother-of-pearl sheen. Harry sniffed the potion curiously and wondered if it was made of lavender and vanilla or it was just that Riddle poured his bottle of cologne on himself after his stint at the infirmary. Harry also got a whiff of a bit of treacle tart and a flowery smell that reminded him of the Burrow. He felt deep satisfaction as he took a sniff of the potion again and looked at Ron who gave him a large smile. Riddle had his chair turned away from the cauldron and looked like he was trying to stay the furthest away from the potion as possible.

“Thank you, Horace. Now if I could take a few more minutes of your time,” Slughorn looked confused but nodded nonetheless. McGonagall turned to Riddle with a stern look. “It seems, Jedusor, that your recounting of this morning’s events was not the same as three of your fellow students,” McGonagall said and Riddle bit his lip. "I-I just did not want to get in trouble I wasn’t sure what—” but McGonagall interrupted him. “You did not want to make waves and instead wanted to take on everything by yourself as young men such as yourself are wont to do.” her stare turned disapproving. 

Slughorn hesitated before he moved a step away from Riddle, as if he was worried whatever Riddle had lied about was serious and he needed not to be associated with him. He fiddled nervously with his vest buttons before he spoke “I’m sorry Minerva but what exactly is going on?” 

“Well you see Horace, Jedusor had a duel with Severus and was hit with a rather nasty spell, and still managed to disarm him. Which I believe is something well worth an additional twenty points for Gryffindor to the fifteen I gave you earlier for successfully casting a nonverbal spell and managing to counter the curse you were hit with.” McGonagall said as Slughorn relaxed considerably and muttered something under his breath. Harry noticed all four Slytherins in the class looking as if they had just eaten earwax flavored beans and he gave them all a condescending smile. 

“Now, I will have to wait for the headmaster to come back before I breach the subject with him. In the meantime, I have had a word with Professor Snape and made it perfectly clear that I, as deputy Headmistress, will not tolerate any harm done to any student in Hogwarts, be it for educational purposes or not. And a final piece of advice Jedusor: it would always fare better for you if you went with honesty, especially with your head of House. My apologies again for the disturbance Horace.” Riddle nodded and McGonagall left the classroom looking slightly less upset than before.

Riddle smirked for one moment before he turned demure and Harry couldn’t help but be amazed as he considered the possibility that Riddle had planned all of this. Coming to the infirmary and claiming a professor had hit him with a spell would definitely have had less of an impact than this whole charade he had cooked up. A small sense of relief loosened the knot in Harry’s stomach as he realised Riddle’s revenge was more calculated and manipulative than the rampage he had imagined and feared. Then again the other teen could still not be done with exacting revenge for that silent humiliation he had gone through. For now, all he did was turn the situation into an opportunity to gain McGonaggal’s sympathies and— whether he planned it or not—Slughorn’s admiration as well.

In fact, the look the old professor was giving Riddle could almost be considered besotted.

“My dear boy, as always you keep on pleasantly surprising me. And to think you disarmed Severus as well!” Slughorn praised before he turned back to the class. His eyes fell on Harry and his smile stayed wide. “Ah yes, I will bring you two the books and scales,” he said before turning to the cupboard and coming back with two worn _Advanced Potion-Making_ and scales, he dropped next to the two of them.

“Now then, what were we saying again?” 

“Sir? You did not tell us yet about the potion on your desk.” Ernie said and Slughorn smiled widely at him as if grateful he went along with some sort of plan.

“Yes of course, now Tom I believe you can also tell the class what that potion is, am I correct?” asked Slughorn, managing not to see Hermione’s raised hand. Harry saw her pout somewhat as she lowered her hand. Harry bit a smile and focused back on Riddle’s voice.

“I believe that is Felix Felicis sir, a potion commonly known as Liquid Luck. It brings immense luck to whoever drinks it. However, too much of it could lead to misfortune as it induces heavy dizzy spells as well as perpetual foolhardiness and recklessness. The potion is also toxic in big doses.”

Everyone straightened up at this seeming to find the lesson much more interesting all of a sudden, and with Harry’s life being what it was he found himself just as interested in hearing about a potion that could give him luck. Merlin knows he's probably running out of luck by now.

Slughorn beamed at him. “Ten more points for Gryffindor! I could not have said that better myself my dear Tom. I will add, however, that this potion is also not allowed to be used in any official occurrence like exams or sporting events.

”I myself only took a small sip of it twice, and both days remain engraved in my mind as the best in my life.” Slughorn said, his eyes taking on a faraway look as if reminiscing fondly, and Harry could not help but be impressed by how well the man could sell a story. Slughorn had them all hooked as he continued and grabbed a small bottle filled with the now-familiar gold liquid. “And I will be gifting this little bottle containing just about enough Felix Felicis to last you twelve whole hours, to one of you.” 

The silence was palpable and the sounds of potions brewing and bubbling was the only noise resounding in the classroom. Slughorn took a look at the clock on the wall “We have a bit more than an hour left, which would leave you all with enough time to brew a Draught of the Living Dead for which the instructions are presented in your books, page 10.”

“Now, I know this potion is much more complicated than anything else you’ve attempted to brew so far but nothing like healthy competition to push you to do better, I always say. The person with the most advanced potion will be receiving this prize. And you can go ahead now!” he said with a flourish of his hands and chaos erupted as everyone drew their cauldrons closer to them. 

Harry opened the old tattered book Slughorn had handed him and found to his growing annoyance that whoever was its previous owner had scribbled all over it with barely decipherable handwriting. Scoffing, Harry looked at the ingredient list and grabbed the book with him so he could get all that he would need from the ingredients cupboard Slughorn had mentioned before. 

Harry took back his seat between Ron and Riddle and saw that Ron was busy lighting his cauldron while Riddle had already cut his roots with a finesse that spoke of experience. In fact, the way he was brewing made it look so easy as he—unlike Hermione who was always exuding some type of nervous energy—maneuvered in his workstation with the ease of an expert. Harry took a deep breath and focused back on his own work, slicing the Valerian roots quickly before turning to try and decipher the scribbles on his book. 

A while later, Harry noticed that Riddle and Hermione seemed to be the most advanced in the class with the color of their potion similar to the one described as ideal when about halfway through brewing. Riddle’s seemed a bit clearer than Hermione’s though. Harry frowned and decided to attempt the scribbled instruction on the book that said to crush the Sopophorous bean instead of cutting it. He turned to Hermione and asked to borrow her silver knife and she muttered an affirmation. Harry saw that her potion was a dark purple instead of the lilac shade it was supposed to be. The fact that Tom’s was the exact same shade described in the book seemed to make her even more flustered. 

“How did you get that color Tom?” she asked frustrated. Riddle looked up at her as he was stirring his potion and did not stop as glanced at her cauldron and hummed. Harry followed the exchange closely hoping he could take something from them and completely ignored Malfoy who said something to Slughorn and was snubbed by the potions master. “Did you put in enough Sopophorous bean juice? Maybe add a bit more.” he said and Hermione frowned and muttered something that sounded like “I did what was in the book though.” 

Riddle shrugged and locked eyes with Harry for a bit. Still stirring his potion that was becoming more and more clear, he raised his eyebrows “You should hurry up with those Potter.” he said pointing to the beans, and Harry almost spluttered before he settled for a glare.

Taking the flat side of the silver knife, Harry crushed the bean and was pleasantly surprised when it let out a lot more juice than he figured it held in its tiny shriveled form.  
He added the abundant juice to his potion and immediately saw the lilac shade the book had described as ideal at this point. Feeling suddenly much more enthused by the book and whoever scribbled in it, he read the instruction that said to stir the potion clockwise every time he finished stirring it seven times counterclockwise.

The moment he did as was instructed his potion took on a pale pink color. Riddle had been stirring his potion for quite a while now and when Harry looked at his potion it was only a few shades lighter than Harry’s.

Hermione seemed to notice his lighter potion and asked him how he did it. He tried to keep his voice low so as not to be heard by Riddle who was looking at his potion as well but knew it was futile. “Turn it clockwise every seven times you turn it counter—” Hermione shook her head irritated. “No that’s not what the book says!” she said and turned frantically to stirring her potion. Riddle hummed. “Interesting technique Potter. Did you come up with it by accident?” he asked and Harry flipped him the bird, earning himself a smile that churned Harry’s insides. He was toe-to-toe with Tom Riddle in potions and could not wait to win this race. 

By the time Slughorn called the time and Ron was muttering _fucks_ and _shits_ all over his cauldron, Harry took a look around and saw that his potion had been the palest in the room except for Riddle who had started imitating the better stirring method to Harry’s ire.

As Slughorn stood by the Ravenclaws’ table Harry stood up on his seat to take a better look at what he was doing but the man just passed by the potions and was not saying much. Instead, he would just stir the potion or take a ladle-full and examine it closely. Before Harry could properly settle back on his seat as Slughorn finished looking over Michael Corner's potion with a rueful smile, there was a loud bang and everyone jumped up.

The loudest scream came from the Slytherin table and Harry stared in awe as he watched Nott covered in a thick purple goo, coughing and hacking as if trying to spit out some of it that he might have inhaled. 

Malfoy’s cauldron seemed to be bubbling dangerously as well and Harry saw with satisfaction that the blonde git had been hit with some of the purple goo and had a blob of it on his hair. Slughorn hurried over to their table and levitated Malfoy’s cauldron from the fire before he cast a sort of bubble around it just as it was about to explode. The bubble held in the pink goo and was subsequently vanished with a wave of Slughorn’s wand. 

“My goodness what in Merlin’s name happened here? Malfoy, take yourself and Nott to the infirmary right now. Needless to say, your potions are both failures.” Malfoy looked absolutely livid as he glared at Nott who he seemed to blame for the accident. The other boy was still doubled over, sounding like he was about to hack up a lung and Malfoy grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him out of the room.

Harry turned back to their table and shared an amused look with Ron who seemed to have calmed down from his earlier frantic cursing and enjoyed the Slytherin’s accident.  
Harry thought he heard a bottle rattle for a bit and looked at Riddle who smiled innocently at him. Harry was not even surprised even more. The bloody git went and did it again didn’t he?

“You’re impossible,” he whispered to Riddle who just put a hand to his chest as if offended and Harry guffawed. Merlin, Harry never felt so giddy in his life; he was probably about to win a vial of luck, Riddle was back to his old self as he finished his revenge plan, what more could one ask for?

Slughorn had moved on from the other two Slytherins and moved to their own table. He completely ignored Ernie’s potion, winced in sympathy when he saw Ron’s potion, and nodded approvingly at Hermione’s. His eyes moved to Riddle’s and his face turned delighted before he saw Harry’s mixture and clapped looking at the both of them.

“Fantastic, absolutely fantastic, the two of you are the closest. The shade seems to be almost similar, I suppose I could…” Slughorn seemed to be torn for a bit as he fumbled with the Felix Felicis vial. He took a ladle of Harry’s potion and cast a Lumos with his wand as if to check how clear it was. He turned a commiserating smile at Riddle before beaming at Harry. 

“The winner ladies and gentlemen!” he pointed at Harry as if showing off a prize and Harry couldn’t help but beam. He did it! Not only did he beat Riddle but he got a potion that would prove immensely helpful.

“But it is clear you have inherited Lily’s skills, no doubt about it, Harry. Goodness gracious.” he said and handed the vial “Here you go Harry, it’s yours as promised. Tom, you were magnificent as well and came a close second. You should be proud of yourself.” Riddle nodded “Thank you sir, and I’m happy Potter won the prize, after all, there’s no shame in being bested by the Chosen One.” Slughorn chuckled and shook his head. “Indeed, indeed. All right, then, class dismissed. Blaise, make sure to bring Malfoy and Nott their bags.” he said, turning to Zabini who sighed and grabbed his two dormmates’ bags.

They all filed out of the classroom and Harry just shrugged at Ron’s astounded question about how exactly he did as he saw Zabini was not too far from them. 

“Tom Jedusor?” Harry turned and saw a fifth-year Hufflepuff heading towards them. “That’s me,” Riddle said and accepted a familiar letter to the one Harry had gotten this morning.

“What is is it?” Hermione asked.

“It seems the headmaster wishes to speak with me sometime this weekend. Most likely about what happened.” came Riddle’s reply and Harry frowned.

Was Riddle invited to his own private lessons with Dumbledore? And if so what the hell were they going to be doing. For now, all he wanted to do was bask in his own good mood and maybe replay the image of Malfoy with purple goo in his hair for a bit in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaay phew another 11k done. I got back to work this week so I had less time to finish things up even though I was at like 7k by last sunday but well teaching kinda drains me so I barely had the energy to finish it up till today which I have free so yay. The update schedule will probably be weakly: every Friday or Sunday.
> 
> Anyways some additional notes:
> 
> \- Snape is not getting bashed here but I'm also not gonna blow smoke up his ass, he is an asshole. A great wizard and probably a great source of information, yes, but he's not the best "teacher" and he is prone to wanting to humiliate Gryffindors, especially suspicious, smug ones like Tom who Dumbledore seems to favor for no reason at all (kinda like he was with the Marauders cuz let's be honest he let a lot of their shit slide). 
> 
> -Tom annoys Snape the moment he answers his simple question with more information than he should lol add to that he's obviously posh, a know-it-all, and a smarmy asshole who knew just how to look down at Snape without being outwardly insolent. So yeah Snape wanted him to fall on his face and eat shit.
> 
> -The duel did overwhelm Tom because not only is Snape insanely good as a dueler and has 20+ years of experience on Tom, I wanted to show that Tom is not some deus ex machina, experienced adults will beat him especially if he's only forced to be on the defensive. He only disarmed snape by being sneaky but more on that after. 
> 
> -Snape throwing a messy curse at a student is canon, or well according to Harry it is as he told Hermione in the hbp book Snape threw a curse at him so he had to protect himself.
> 
> -Oh silly Harry, Amortentia is not made with lavender and vanilla! the boy-who-simp'd continues to bask in the waters of DeNial river (like the Nile river it's a bad pun sorry) when it comes to just how physically attracted to Tom he is lol. I believe Amortentia would smell like the person you're more physically attracted to, as the potion itself cannot induce love and works more like an Imperio but with physical attraction. Tom does not smell anything but chocolate cake (yes I headcanon him as a chocolate lover) and the smell of a library (for now). 
> 
> Next: More details about what exactly happened in the duel and after will be hashed out as Tom broods and plots. We will also have a pov switch between Harry and Tom. The start of a storyline that will accelerate one of the canon events and lead to quite the batshit result, so yeah please look forward to that as well as the trip into memory lane courtesy of one Albus Percival something something Dumbledore.


	8. Required Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone frowns a lot, there may or may not be a duel and Harry would face Voldemort any day of the week so just let him run away from his feelings, please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the Chapter everyone and tell me what you think in the comments!!

Harry was laying down on the couch near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, trying to rest his eyes for a while but his brain was not giving him a break. He sighed and shifted a bit, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes before he put them back on and decided to face his thoughts. The decision he had to make now was whether or not to tell Riddle about the potions book. There was no way he could keep something so big and impactful from someone as astute and observant as Riddle, after all. Telling the other teen sooner rather than later would not only help cement their deal but also prevent Riddle from blowing up in another bout of barely restrained fury.

Hermione had accompanied Riddle to the library to work on their homework after he’d received the letter from Dumbledore while Harry and Ron had gone back to the dorms to rest a bit before dinner. Harry had not said much on the subject of his unexpected rise of skills in their last potions lesson, and Ron was too busy worrying about something else—that Harry suspected had a lot to do with Hermione—to pay any further attention to the subject after Harry’s initial dismissive response.

This had meant Harry was free to go back through everything that had happened so far this first day of term and thank his stars in some small measure that Riddle was there in Defence class because knowing Snape the way Harry did, there was no way the old git would not have singled him out somehow. Now that he held the role of Defence professor, Harry was sure Snape would amp up his usual attempts at making Harry lose his calm so he could force him to clean rusty cauldrons or extract mucus from some nasty creature instead of enjoying his free time. Riddle had also managed to somehow make Nott and Malfoy’s cauldrons explode in potions class which both didn’t surprise Harry that much and left him quite amused and relieved that it was not something worse like some long term curse.

Sighing, Harry decided to get up from the couch and send his order to a couple of vendors in Diagon Alley to buy all that he needed for potions class. By the time he finished the letters and promised himself he would send them early the next morning, Hermione and Riddle came back.

Ron and Riddle ignored each other and Harry winced at the exaggerated way he went to Hermione asking her how her day went. Well at least the two of them weren’t fighting, Harry thought as he watched Riddle go up the stairs two by two. He followed after him and saw him put his messenger bag next to his bed which was to the right of Harry’s. 

“Potter. Is there anything I can help you with?” came Riddle’s question and Harry gauged the other’s posture and tone of voice before shrugging even though Riddle couldn’t see him.

“Not really… Just wanted to see how you were doing? We didn’t really get the chance to talk today and I wanted to show you something.” 

Riddle turned around with his hair pushed back from his face and raised his eyebrows. “I’m doing well thank you. This morning was quite the shock but I dealt with it as I’m sure you’ve deduced.”

Harry nodded and tried not to stare too long at Riddle’s eyes that seemed lighter somehow. Maybe his transfiguration was wearing off? “I should’ve warned you about Snape; he's completely mental and I don’t see why Dumbledore even gave him this job... I mean the man is a Death Eater for fuck’s sake.” Harry grimaced at the suddenly ignited hatred in Riddle’s eyes. Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned this now.

“Are you telling me Dumbledore is letting a Death Eater teach students? The beacon of light allows for such a deranged bully to teach young children? Is this common knowledge then? Does no one care? Did it only take Dumbledore vouching for him to make everyone turn a blind eye to the fact the man is a servant of Voldemort?” barely restrained fury laced Riddle’s words and Harry cursed his stupid mouth. He was not about to defend Snape though so he shrugged “Basically yes. Dumbledore says he’s reformed or whatever and he’s even helping by spying on Voldemort.” 

Riddle chuckled without humor and ran a hand through his hair “Well that’s par the course for Dumbledore isn’t it? After all, his decision regarding me that day we recruited Slughorn wasn’t done without quite a bit of a leap of faith. I just hope for all our sakes he’s making sure that arsehole Snape is on our side and not just playing triple agent. I will have to bring this up with him on Saturday.”

“Harry what are you doing—” Ron’s voice interrupted Harry before he could ask about what exactly he and Dumbledore would be meeting up for on Saturday.

Ron frowned at the two of them suspiciously but seemed to force a smile nonetheless and put an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Come on mate let’s go down for dinner.” 

Riddle went completely ignored and thankfully did not seem to care as he stood next to his bed as if waiting for them to leave. Harry hesitated. He wanted to show Riddle the potion book as it might make the other malleable enough he would share more about what he was doing with Dumbledore and whether he was done with his revenge plans or not. But then he realised that telling Ron to go on ahead would result in more one-sided stupid tension between him and Riddle so he turned to his best friend.

“Actually Ron can you hold on? I have to get my Potions' book from my bag, then the three of us could go to dinner so I can show Hermione too.” Ron looked slightly annoyed but pretty quickly masked it with a smile again before dropping his arm.

Harry took the potions book out of his bag and as he looked up at Riddle found him smiling at him. “I see, is that what you wanted to show me? I’m assuming those scribbles I saw in it hold some significance?” Harry nodded and headed down the stairs behind Ron who threw him a bemused glance.

“I’ll tell you all at dinner, I don’t feel like repeating it three times.” Ron sighed but acquiesced easy enough “Are you sure you wanna share whatever it is with him though?” he asked with a tilt of his chin to Riddle who had met up with Hermione and helped her get up from the couch with easy camaraderie and a joke that made Hermione laugh. It was all fake though, and only he knew the absolute truth about Riddle. 

Harry turned to Ron “Yeah I am. Look, Ron, I know you don’t really like him, but he’s really smart and his grandfather was with Voldemort in school so he knows a lot about him too, that’s why Dumbledore is so interested in him.” Harry knew he was taking a bit of a gamble with this and was glad Riddle and Hermione had already gone through the portrait because Ron’s shocked shout of “You-know-who?” would have definitely gone against Riddle’s part of the deal. Harry shushed him but it was too late; several heads in the common room turned to stare at them even more blatantly than the glances they kept throwing at Harry before. Ron continued with a whisper that barely worked to conceal his words “You’re saying he's somehow connected to you-know-who?” 

“Yes, Ron. I’m just telling you this so you can see why I’m spending more time with him. I haven’t even told Hermione this because Dumbledore forbade me from telling it to anyone, but I trust you so keep it to yourself.” Ron swore under his breaths but nodded nonetheless. “I think Hermione should know, but if you say Dumbledore told you not to and you want to listen to him on this well... I trust your judgment, mate. Thanks for telling me.”

“What’s this about you-know-who?” came Ginny’s very distinct voice from behind them just as they were about to cross the portrait hole and Harry almost tripped on his face if not for Ron’s quick reflexes.

“Nothing for you to worry about Gin,” Ron said in his dismissive big brother voice that Harry knew drove Ginny up the walls so he just threw an apologetic smile her way.

“You’re such an arse Ron,” she said and shook her head. Harry saw Dean following closely behind her and putting a hand on her waist so he hurried out of the common room ignoring the Fat Lady’s comments about how she was too busy to stay open like this for them. The two of them hurried to the grand staircase and managed to hop on a set of moving stairs that put them right behind Riddle and Hermione on the fourth floor.

Riddle had apparently started a conversation with Hermione about potions, and Harry knew for sure then that the other teen had already surmised what happened. “Brewing potions isn’t always about following the instructions and instead involves an amount of trial and error and adaptation; sort of like chemistry or even baking,” he said to Hermione who had a pensive look. 

Ron nudged Harry and rolled his eyes as if to say _these two right_ and Harry smiled before focusing back on what they were saying. “Maybe, but even in the case of chemistry isn’t there a need for exact measurements? One cannot go willy nilly can they? And our books are usually given to us with the safest method most adapted to students.”

Riddle nodded. “Yes you have a point, but I believe a lot of theory and calculations come into play in chemistry to determine the appropriate amount of what to add and when. Potions are the same, and the books are safest as you said but they are also not very detailed. Take for example the Sopophorous bean juice we had to add earlier. Cutting the beans lets out a small amount of juice but when I crushed one with my finger instead, it spilled so much more juice. That was how I managed to get to the pink pale shade you struggled with. The instructions should be to add enough of the bean juice to get a pale pink color instead of cutting one bean and adding its juice, you see?” 

Hermione frowned. “I understand your point and it seems to have helped you in this case but what if you’re handling more sensitive or dangerous ingredients? You can hardly experiment with those, can you? Although I admit sticking to the instructions did not lead me anywhere close to yours or Harry’s successful attempts.” They settled down for dinner and Hermione turned to Harry “Which reminds me, Harry. I’m not sure I buy your excuse that it was just luck. Yours was better than Tom’s who had already attempted the potion with his grandfather this summer.”

Harry sighed. He guessed there was no going around coming clean then. He brought out the book and told them everything that happened, watching as with every word he said Hermione’s expression hardened. Riddle was smiling as if proud of himself for having guessed it was something similar and Harry glared at him halfheartedly. Hermione looked absolutely sour by the time he was done and Harry couldn’t help but get annoyed. 

“You think I’ve cheated don’t you?”

Hermione frowned “Well it definitely was not the fruit of your own hard work was it?”

“He’s just followed other instructions, didn’t he? He took a gamble in following these scribbled instructions and it paid off. Slughorn could have given me that book but I think mine just has dried vomit on page 52.” Ron said with a sigh and Harry was at least glad for his friend’s support before he caught a whiff of the flowery smell that was in the potions class and heard yet again Ginny’s voice. His stomach clenched as he felt her body heat so close to his. “Hang on a minute, Harry. You’re telling you’ve followed instructions someone wrote in a book?”

He turned to her and saw she looked worried and furious. Harry immediately deduced what she was thinking of and couldn’t help but throw a look at Riddle who appeared to be very interested in the conversation.

“It’s nothing… I mean it is nothing like…the…” He was about to mention Riddle’s diary but he felt Riddle’s eyes boring holes into him and stopped himself. Ginny frowned at him and seemed to look behind him at Riddle with a confused frown and Harry held his breath. Did she remember something after all?

“Nothing like Tom Riddle’s diary? How can you know that? You still did whatever it asked you to do didn’t you?”

Harry mentally sighed in relief as it looked like she was not remembering anything important after all and tried reassuring Ginny. “I just followed the advice that was written on the side of the pages. Honestly, Ginny, I don’t see what’s suspicious about—”

Hermione snatched his copy of the potions book and tried to stop her but she was too quick. “Hey! What the hell, Hermione?”

“Ginny has a point, Harry, who knows what can be hidden in this book. _Specialis Revelio_ ” she said tapping the book with her hand several times. Nothing happened, and as they all stared at the used and tattered book, Hermione huffed and turned to Riddle.

“Tom, do you know of any other spell that can help discern if there are any spells on it?” she asked and Harry groaned and tried to reach for the book but it flew right of his reach and into Riddle’s hands. The git had just summoned it!

Riddle’s long fingers held the book and examined it as he threw a few spells at it that Harry was sure were not in the least about inspecting it. The git was probably changing the instructions or copying them or something.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, Hermione. The fact that I was able to use Accio on it means it’s not really heavily enchanted or cursed. From the research I once did on it, I believe cursed books usually make one lose their memory or keep on reading it forever until they lose their mind. This seems like a student that saw the error in the instructions of the book and wished to correct them, either for his own use or for future use by students considering he left his book in Hogwarts.” Hermione looked dejected but sighed with a nod while Riddle levitated the book back to Harry who snatched it a bit too fast and noticed the words Property of the Half-Blood Prince scribbled in the back.

“Potter? I believe you wanted to go with me to the library so I can show you that book about nonverbal spells? It’s a little after seven pm so we have about an hour left.” Riddle’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked up sharply. 

“Right, yes. I wasn’t really hungry anyway,” he said and got up.

“Ah mate but I haven’t even started eating yet,” whined Ron. 

“If you can wait for a bit, I can accompany you both as well,” Hermione said, taking a bite of a piece of a chicken nugget.

Harry shook his head and got up, “It’s okay we can go just Riddle and me.” he said, throwing a smile at Ginny who was frowning at the table as if lost in thought. Ron grumbled something under his breath that sounded like he was considering choosing between his food and accompanying Harry but the food was winning and Hermione looked between him and Riddle for a moment before she sighed, a reluctant smile on her face. “Fine, you two go on alone.”

Harry raised his brows and looked back at Ginny to see if she could help him make sense of Hermione’s weird switches of moods. “I have waited a long time to come to Hogwarts’ library, and Hermione and I barely scratched the surface earlier, come on Potter,” Riddle said and Harry saw Ginny’s eyes widen for a bit before she shook her head. He was about to ask her if everything was okay but Riddle’s hand wrapped around his arm and he felt that heat in his stomach again. Harry really needed to go see Madame Pomfrey if these weird feelings in his stomach persisted.

“What’s this about a book in the library?” Harry asked as soon as the two of them left the hall and went up the grand staircase. 

“You said yesterday on the train that you wouldn’t mind me teaching you some spells right? Well, one of the first lessons is casting nonverbally. I believe with how McGonagall blew up on Snape he will not be attempting to pull the same shite he did to me this morning, which means he might target you next.”

Harry bit his lip to stop a stupid smile from spreading across his face; Riddle was worried about him in a way wasn’t he? “Wait that’s it? You’re not going to mention the potions book?” He saw Riddle continue up to the fourth floor and frowned. “And the library is on the third floor where are you going?”

“We wouldn’t be able to have a conversation let alone enough space for me to teach you anything if we head to the library, Potter. We’re going to this room on the seventh floor that I discovered a while back. I’m trusting this with you Potter since I did appreciate you wanting to inform me about your book even before telling your other friend and I suppose because as an ally I feel we should share information like this.”

Harry couldn’t even hide a smile this time and just shook his head in slight fondness. “A room on the seventh floor? You don’t mean the room of requirement, do you?”

Riddle stopped in his tracks and almost missed the next step on the stairs but Harry helped him on to the seventh-floor landing. “You know about it? That’s… how? I thought I was the only one who… No, but how stupid and arrogant of me, of course, with the state of that room thousands of people must have known of it…”

Harry frowned worriedly “Riddle are you all right?” Riddle exhaled quite forcefully and turned to Harry with a calculating gaze. “I’m fine just berating myself for being so arrogant. It already bit me in the arse once before, but that does not matter for now. How did you find out about it? The room’s presence was only hinted in this very old book and I—”

“A house-elf told me last year, the same house-elf who brought you your food this summer, actually; Dobby. Apparently, the house-elves know about it and call it the Come and Go room.”

Riddle let out a bitter laugh, “Of course, house-elves again… I cannot keep on being so fucking stupid…” he muttered and Harry gave him a considering look, wondering just what in the hell was going through the other’s mind. He decided to continue “I’m not the only one who knows about it though, I’m pretty sure most of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years know about it because we held these meetings there last year and this absolute bitch Umbridge busted us just as we were getting out of it after this other bitch snitched on us.”

Riddle gave him a confused glare and Harry sighed before he recounted briefly the details of what was happening with Umbridge and Dumbledore’s Army the year before.

“I… see and this means all these people can enter it as they please then?”

Harry shook his head “Not exactly… the people of the DA could enter it because we all had a common wish in mind for the room. While we were all inside it, the room wouldn’t let Umbridge and the others in, she only caught us as we were leaving and then went inside and rummaged through it.”

Riddle nodded “I see then. I believe we could ask the room to grant us privacy and not let anyone else use it while we were inside even if they somehow managed to figure out what we wanted to use it for. Here we are. I’ll do the honors then.” Riddle said and walked in front of the tapestry for a bit before a wooden door materialised.

Riddle gestured for Harry to go first and followed after him. Harry couldn’t help but stare in awe at the room as he took in everything. The first thing he noticed was that it was huge, almost as big as the one they used for the DA last year. There was a king-sized bed in the right corner of the room with regal-looking dark green and silver beddings that Harry was sure were shades different from Slyhtherin’s colors. Next to the large bed was about two shelves stocked full of books and a large comfortable-looking couch in front of a dark grey carpet. The rest of the room looked like it was made with dueling in mind as it reminded him intricately of the setting that the dueling club back in his second year had looked like. There were also several dummies to practice spells on and there was even a window to the outside.

“It’s exactly the same as I used to make it back in my time,” Riddle said with a hint of awe in his voice. The other teen was heading straight for the library and looked over the books before taking one outright from the middle with a smile. “This is the book I mentioned about nonverbal spells Potter. Come on, do you want to practice or not?” Harry nodded mutely, still reeling a bit from Riddle’s genuine smile. 

“I like the decor, very Slytherin but also not,” he said as he came closer to Riddle who seemed to puff his chest out a bit and Harry couldn’t help a small smile. “Thank you, Potter, this is what my room looks like in the Riddle manor… I can’t say I didn’t miss it this summer.”

Harry shook his head “Oh come on you had the ancestral Black home all to yourself; they were pureblood royalty. I figured someone like you would love it there.” he said with a teasing tone. Riddle scoffed. “Maybe if the bloody house wasn’t infested with doxies and the master bedroom didn’t smell like a hippogryph's toilet.” 

Harry snorted, feeling somewhat amused that all the mean thoughts he had wished on Riddle back in July when he allowed him to use the Grimmauld Place house seemed to have come true. “Did you have to ask Dobby for some Doxycide or did you just bear with the little pests?” he asked, amused. 

Riddle scowled at him “I was bitten by one of those pests and would have needed St. Mungo’s if I didn’t have an antidote close by, so I fail to find what’s amusing about the situation.” he said and Harry felt like he was being glared at by a disgruntled cat, but laughing at Riddle now would probably backfire for now so he tried to look commiserating.

“And I cast Immobulus on them then threw them in the fire,” Riddle added as if the idea of him bearing the pests’ presence was blasphemous. Harry chuckled heartily, Riddle being himself had much more appeal than the fabricated persona he gave everyone else. And although Harry was still doubtful the other teen was one hundred percent real with him, well it wasn’t like Harry himself wasn’t keeping quite a few secrets close to his heart.

“So you grew up rich and spoiled then, what else was your childhood like?” Harry asked as Riddle was about to hand him the book opened in a page with the title _Visualise your spells don’t just cast them in your mind!_

He took the book from Riddle and watched as the other teen rolled his eyes. “This is a study session Potter and as far as I remember you owe me three answers, not the opposite.” 

“Okay but just reading from a book is not going to help me learn this any faster than with Snape’s half-assed instructions.”

Riddle sighed. “Fine, but keep the book on you so you can get the theory behind this practice well engraved in your mind. Let us do this then, you achieve some form of nonverbal magic and I answer your question, sounds good?”

Harry stood up straight on the couch and nodded. “Now I’m sure with what happened this morning you haven’t really had time to practice anything did you?” At Harry's nod, Riddle carried on “Right, well nonverbal casting is going to be something that is asked of us in Transfiguration and Charm as well I believe, that is why I insisted we get you to learn the basics tonight.” 

“You must understand that casting nonverbally is not something you can do without a certain level of focus and without a clear understanding of your own mind and use of visualisation skills. So at first, I want you to start small and use a nonverbal Lumos.”

Harry gave him a look and Riddle just stared back with raised eyebrows, until Harry sighed and brought out his wand.

“Visualise the light, don’t just think of the incantation in your head. Imagine what it looked like when you cast the spell before and how the magic flowed from you. Come on give it a try.”

Harry took a breath and stared at his wand as he did the wand movement for Lumos, and thought about the light. Maybe this was like the Patronus charm and Harry needed to clearly visualise the spell in his mind. Nothing happened.

He tried again, this time remembering when he used the spell for the first time in his first year and how happy that had made him. Still nothing. After his tenth try, he exhaled frustratedly and looked at Riddle who was reading what looked like a book about revolutionary 20th-century potions.

“I can’t do this Riddle, I’ve always had a hard time with mind-related magic, I couldn’t do occlumency to save my life and the Patronus charm took me months to master,” he said with a frown. Riddle looked up at him and closed his book.

“You can cast a Patronus then? I thought that charm was not even in the Hogwarts curriculum? I myself was only going to start learning it this year…”

“Yeah I learned it in my third year, I can teach you if you want? I helped a lot of DA members learn it last year.”

Riddle sighed. “Thank you but I will try to learn it on my own these upcoming weeks, it would be something to do while you practice the spells I teach you. If I ever find myself stuck I will ask you of course,” he added as Harry opened his mouth. “It would be foolish of me to cling to arrogance if I have the _Chosen One_ himself willing to teach me.” Harry recognized his teasing tone from the train and kicked at him yet again earning himself an affronted look he was starting to find very amusing. 

“Back to you now Potter. The fact you learned the Patronus Charm at thirteen means you are going to learn nonverbal spells quite easily and even Occlumency if you give it the proper time but we will come back to that one later.” The fact that Riddle was so confident in Harry’s magical skills and capabilities somehow made him feel more motivated to do this, and who knows if anyone could help Harry with Occlumency it would be the guy who managed to hide memories from Dumbledore himself. 

“Cast a regular Lumos right now,” Riddle said and Harry complied “Memorise how the magic felt flowing from your own core to your wand and how the spells looked like. Now do not associate any feelings with it, just close your eyes and concentrate on replicating the exact same magical pull as before.” Harry turned off his Lumos and took a deep breath before he closed his eyes, Riddle’s instructions replaying in his mind. “Go on, do it,” Riddle said and Harry did.

He could feel something shine through his closed eyelids and was almost blinded by the light coming from his wand when he opened his eyes. “A perfect nonverbal Lumos, very well done Potter.” 

Harry smiled at Riddle “I did it!” and for some reason he grabbed Riddle’s shoulder and squeezed for a bit, feeling the muscles tense. He took his hand away and got up from the couch. This time he didn’t close his eyes but repeated the same process as before and beamed as his wand lit up with a dimmer light than his previous attempt but still as good as his verbal casting. He turned the book Riddle had dropped next to him on the couch and cast a levitation charm on it, watching with a beaming smile as it rose up slowly. He punched the air and beamed at Riddle.

“A bit of an overenthusiastic response to casting a Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa, but I suppose it is a job well done.” came Riddle’s judgment-riddled voice. Harry stopped himself from giggling at that stupid pun he just made in his head and turned his smile into more of a smug look instead.

“Oh bugger off, now I believe you said you will answer my question? Out with it then!”

Riddle looked like he was regretting every single one of his life decisions but Harry saw how relaxed his shoulders were, he clearly was not that mad about it.

“I grew up with a very loving father who, while having his fair share of issues both with magic and my mother, still tried his best to make me never doubt how much he cared, most of that was shown through gifts and materialistic means but he did make some effort when he taught me Rugby. The past few years we also grew closer as I showed him what good things can amount from magic. My grandmother hated me though, and thought I was a spawn of the devil who needed to be exorcised.” Riddle chuckled and Harry winced, so not a fully happy childhood then. “She was mostly harmless though, the fact I look so much like my father softened her quite a bit, by the time I went to Hogwarts she started mistaking me a lot for my father and I was more than happy with that. My grandfather mostly steered clear of me but would still come to my Rugby matches and buy me expensive watches every year for my birthday. Does that answer your question Potter?”

Harry wanted to immediately say no, that this was only making him want to know more about Riddle. He had no idea what Voldemort’s own childhood was like but he was pretty sure he had killed his own father at one point if Harry’s memory from what had happened in the graveyard was not wrong. He sighed and nodded instead. 

“Great, now attempt a shield charm and several spells at the dummies over there, if you manage that in thirty minutes I will answer another of your questions, but remember I can ask you questions of my own during our lessons that have nothing to do with the three honest answers you promised me before.”  
Harry figured that was fair enough and drew back his wand.

* * *

By the time twenty-five minutes had passed, Harry had managed to cast several shield charms and had done quite the damage to several dummies as he cast his dueling spells.

“Well done,” Riddle said sounding slightly bored and Harry couldn’t help the urge to throw a stinging hex at the other and he didn’t resist it. Riddle, of course, deflected it and sent back four stinging hexes Harry barely avoided by rolling around the ground.

“Are you itching that hard for a duel Potter? Do you think you’re up for it?” Riddle’s amused tone made Harry grit his teeth and he turned around with an arrogant smirk he was pretty sure made him look even more like his father. 

“I’ve faced far worse than you in a duel Riddle, you don’t have my exper—” Harry started and felt his wand thrown out of his hand after a red flash. He quickly jumped after it and threw a nonverbal _Impedimenta_ at Riddle who had already put up a shielding charm.

“You’re such a git, what happened to Duel etiquette? Your other self was all about it, _bow to your opponent_ he had said to me as he cast unforgivables.” 

Riddle snorted as he and Harry faced each other, wands at the ready. “Those are Wizard’s duels Potter, we’re just having a bit of fun, aren’t we? And I might not have your experience but I did study under a dueling tutor for quite some time. I can see you your posture is all over the place.” he said with his irritating posh voice and Harry wanted to see the smirk erased from his annoyingly handsome face. He was surprised his thoughts didn't have much aggression though, but more of a need to see Riddle on his back looking up at Harry with his brown eyes full of heat and… Harry threw himself out of the way of what looked like a Stupefy and smiled wickedly at Riddle before he went on the offensive.

The two of them were pretty much evenly matched and while Riddle threw spells at quite an alarming rate, Harry was evading instead of guarding and threw his own spells to disrupt the other’s attacks. Riddle looked nothing like he had this morning with Snape and seemed to be keeping a calm head even as he smiled and taunted. Harry was not staying quiet either, making fun of Riddle when he slipped on his robes for a bit and vanished the longer hems with ire and red cheeks. After a couple of minutes, the duel was coming to a standstill and Harry felt himself being pushed back as he was being cornered by Riddle and his shield spells did not seem very effective against Riddle’s latest spells. 

He jumped to the left to avoid a nasty-looking yellow hex and sent an Expeliarmus at Riddle that surprised the other teen as his wand flew out of his hand. Harry did not have the time to do anything else though as his leg seemed stuck on something and he fell down, his wand flying away from him. He looked down to his foot and found that Riddle had somehow frozen his feet to the ground and tried in vain to kick himself free and reach for his wand. Riddle got to his own wand faster though and pointed it at him with a vicious smile that churned Harry’s stomach. Bollocks, he wanted to see Riddle on his back.

“Do you yield?” he asked but Harry just glared at him and waited until he was closer before he swept at his legs with his hand and made him fall on his arse. _There now that was more like it_ Harry thought as he saw Riddle glare at him from the ground. He smiled smugly at him before he remembered he did not have his wand on him while Riddle still had his. The cords around his body and the jet of water to the face felt like way too much of an overreaction to Harry as he struggled to breathe.

“You really think you’re clever don’t you?” Riddle asked and Harry couldn't even glare properly as he was still trying to not drown. “Fwuc wou” he said and Riddle glared. “I did not hear you yield Potter.” he stopped the stream of water and Harry took a deep breath before he glared up at Riddle. His stubborn spirit would not let him yield but he knew there was nothing he could do.

“Fine, but technically I disarmed you first,” Harry said with a stubborn frown. Riddle chuckled darkly and crouched down near him. “Look at you, the Chosen One at my mercy, how many would love to have you like this, eh Potter?” Instead of just the blinding rage he would usually feel when he found himself taunted and helpless like this and, Harry could clearly discern that now that familiar churn in his stomach as he looked at Riddle’s heated stare. The other teen did not seem like he was looking down at him or mocking him but his voice held more of a possessive note. That was probably the cause of Harry’s conflicted emotions. 

“You’ve had your fun, Riddle let me go,” Harry glared at him feeling suddenly tired of all of this. 

Riddle considered him for a while and dropped his smile before he waved his wand to vanish the cords, then the ice. As soon as Harry could get up he grabbed Riddle by the collar and glared at him. The words felt stuck in his throat as he felt Riddle’s hand tighten around his hip and a wand press at his chest. Riddle smiled at him.

“I love your relentlessness Harry,” His breath hitched at the way his name sounded coming from Riddle; it sounded silky smooth “You have this unshakeable will to never bow down to anyone regardless of the consequences, and you have the raw magic to back it up. Your dueling skills are also way better than anyone at our age should be. This is why Voldemort wants you gone Harry; he marked you as his when he gave you that scar, he tried to use your connection against you but your will was stronger than his. He’s too used to getting his way by now, you’re not just a thorn on his side you’re a sword pending over his head. And when the two of us train with each other this year we will be unstoppable.”

Harry’s mouth felt drier than a desert and it almost hurt to swallow as he felt something push against his pants. Harry was familiar enough with his own body to realise that he was extremely turned on at the moment as he looked at Riddle’s face up close and felt the other's warm hand wrapped around his hip. With a jolt, Harry took a couple of steps back and turned around to hide his painful erection. He thought of Snape wearing Neville’s grandmother’s clothes and that time Ron was throwing up slugs and felt himself calming down a bit. The erection was just a physical reaction, wasn’t it? Just like in the mornings. Nothing to worry about. It happened, right? Didn’t Fred say he saw Wood and Flint sporting erections after one of their scuffles? Yes, it was completely natural when tensions got high. 

“Are...are you all right?” Riddle asked. Harry exhaled and tried playing back in his mind what Riddle had said. “I-you-I… you called me Harry.” was what he settled for in the end and Riddle raised his eyebrows looking confused.

“I… suppose I did yes. I apologise if I overstep but I figured we had… uh…” Riddle seemed out of it as well and Harry felt relieved he wasn’t the only one who was completely losing it.

“No, it’s all right… I almost slipped up this one time and called you Riddle out loud, it’s best we just call each other by our first name… I mean, if you’re okay with it?” he asked, feeling even more awkward than that time he tried asking Cho out to the ball.

“I have no issue with it, I like my first name well enough.” Riddle— _no, Tom_ said and Harry exhaled in relief.

“Uh, thanks for what you said too. I know I got a bit too much with the duel but I’m just very competitive and I, well…I didn’t want to lose to you.” Tom shrugged and fixed his collar and hair. “No problem, I lost my composure as well, an Aguamenti to the face was not exactly my best when it comes to retaliation. Would you like me to dry you off?” 

Harry looked down at his drenched robes and ran a hand through his still dripping hair and gave his consent. He felt a small breeze and was suddenly dried off completely. 

“Thanks… Tom.”

The other teen smiled at him and cast a Tempus before he sighed. “It’s just a bit over 8 pm we should head back to the common room in a bit.” 

“Don’t you forget you owe me an answer? I did learn these spells under the time you allocated.” Harry said with a smile and Tom pinched his nose, earning a small chuckle from Harry who was more than happy they went back to their previous dynamics. The sooner he forgot all about his embarrassing bodily reactions the better. 

Tom motioned to him with his hand as if to ask _"well then?"_

“You don’t talk much about your mother? Was she uh… not there for you as a kid?” he asked and almost took it back when he saw Tom straight before he even finished his sentence.

“She died giving birth to me,” he said in a neutral tone and Harry was about to apologise but Tom continued, “my father did not have any pictures of her but if she looked anything like my uncle she must have been quite ugly,” he said with a chuckle. “She used a love potion on my father to get him to be with her.” Harry felt his mouth drop and could not think of anything to say so he just stared with a passive face which seemed to be the right thing to do as Riddle took a look at his face before carrying on.

“My father, for some reason, decided to take me back with him when he was out of the haze of the love potion and raise me. Again, I think it helped a lot that I looked almost identical to him. He still drank a lot to cope with what happened and I suppose my presence was not helping him get over things. He was what my grandmother called a discreet drunk, however, as he never acted out or even lashed out on me.” 

Harry did not what to say for a while before he opened his mouth and details of his life he thought he would never share with anyone started coming out. “I lived with muggle relatives as a kid, I still have to go there in the summer now, but well they're the type who hated anything outside of the ordinary or “normal,” he said with a gesture of his fingers. Tom was looking more present than he had before and was giving Harry his undivided attention.

“Needless to say they hate magic and anything of the sort, consider it to be freaky. They only ever called me Boy and while they never hit me, they would lock me in the cupboard under the stairs whenever I was being punished for being a freak. I never bowed down to them though,” Harry said with a fierce glare as if daring Tom to judge him or pity him but the other was just as impassive as Harry had looked before.

“Did you ever get your revenge?” Tom asked softly and Harry snorted, the tension leaving his body. “Of course you’d ask that… and yeah I suppose I did. All of it was accidental magic but I did scare the wits out of my cousin plenty of times, oh and I blew up this absolute cow who was my uncle’s sister. Made her soar up the sky like a balloon. As far as I’m concerned their bigoted, narrow-minded way of living life is punishment enough.” he finished and Tom just shook his head. 

“Well then now that we have both shared embarrassing childhood stories. shall we be on our way?” he asked and Harry motioned for him to lead the way.

The moment they got out to the corridor, Harry thought he heard something like an armor clang and noticed Tom was staring at something behind Harry’s back. He turned around but found nothing and Tom just went on ahead to the common room so he decided to follow him, unaware of the pair of grey eyes that were glaring at him from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right and another one in the oven, we're already 8 chapters in, and it's only been about a month. Idk if that's quick or not but anyways this chapter ended up running away from me and I had to cut off Tom's POV to start clean with it in the next chapter. In my mind, I was like okay so dinner with the half-blood prince reveal then Tom switch pov but then Tom was like nope Harry and I need our moment together and I was like uh yes sir. So yeah I have the next chapter already started and I might, might, might be done with it by Sunday night or early next week but that's me being too optimistic.
> 
> So yeah they share a teaching moment, they duel they almost super serious fight, they flirt (Tom does not know how his words and his smile can inadvertently cause strong physical reactions in people) and Harry gets a boner cuz yup: healthy sixteen-year-old boy. There's only so much bs Harry can feed his own self before he runs out of excuses and just deals with the fact that it's not jealousy he feels with Tom but major attraction lol.
> 
> They're finally on first-name basis yaay, but you know just cuz Harry doesn't slip up and call him Riddle out loud not cuz his name sounds really nice coming out of Tom's mouth nope not that!
> 
> Next Chapter(s), probably (atp this section is as accurate as Reddit spoilers): Tom's POV with a lot of inner dialogue, we take a look into the murky memory waters of one ministry official and there are Quidditch and curses coming up as well. Please look forward to it all <3


	9. Torture and Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom finds out there is no single red-haired person he can tolerate, advocates for children's rights then thirty minutes later goes to break several laws and Malfoy should have definitely stayed in the dorms tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!!: Slightly above Canon-typical torture. Major emotional manipulation.
> 
> Please read the endnotes they have some pertinent plot information, and post a comment about anything you're wondering or just to let me know what you thought <3

Tom looked up at the eyesore that was his bedpost and felt more than glad that the first week of school was finished. He’d managed to charm every single one of his professors and had earned Gryffindor about a hundred points this week. So yes Tom had his professors eating out of the palm of his hand; every one of them except for that absolute twit of Snape, that is. The bloody arse had thankfully steered clear from asking him to demonstrate dueling again but was adamant on taking points away from Tom at the most trivial of things, something Tom had learned quite quickly when Snape took five points for the _obnoxious cologne that made the room stink even worse than Stinksap_ which had Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins snickering like children and Harry scoffing, while Hermione had patted his hand in commiseration.

When he did show up to their next Defence class not wearing his cologne, Harry had grumbled about how he shouldn’t just go along with Snape, especially since Harry himself liked the smell. Hermione had almost dropped her book bag at that and Harry just glared at her.

Tom could then understand why Weasley was so jealous of Harry’s attention; the other teen barely paid attention to anyone but the people he cared for (and those he hated like Snape and Malfoy), and he didn’t even know the names of some of his same year classmates which Tom had found hilarious. But yes, Harry Potter’s positive attention was not only something Tom had grown to appreciate but with the way they were becoming closer friends, after their second session in the Room of Requirement, Tom couldn’t help but feel like his plans were proceeding smoothly. Except for that major hiccup from that first morning of classes that had Tom seriously considering breeding a brand new Basilisk and setting it on the school as his other version had done.

It had started well enough when he managed to earn a smile from McGonagall (who had replaced Dumbledore as head of Gryffindor, deputy headmaster, and Transfiguration professor), as well as when he impressed Professor Babbling with his knowledge of Runes and prompted her to pile on more homework for him and Hermione to the mountain they already had. But then came the absolute shite show that was DADA. 

Tom had, of course, not expected his stay in Hogwarts to be completely smooth sailing especially considering Dumbledore was headmaster but he was not expecting to have to keep his guard up because the Defence professor would choose to humiliate him in front of the whole class. Granted Tom had held his own against the bastard but still, that man was dangerous. 

The array of spells thrown at him had started getting more and more obscure and harder to guard against as the duel went on, so he had let himself get hit by that muscle spasming hex in the leg on purpose with the aim of ending the duel. He had not fancied his chances against Snape so he gave him the win he clearly yearned for, but the obnoxious git had not relented. In fact, everything had gone to shit after that as those bloody Slytherins started trying to sabotage him and the Professor had still done nothing, and Tom had to rely on Hermione to have his back. Needless to say, Tom had been furious, and even now as he lied down on his bed—instead of at the great hall having dinner because he needed time to himself before his meeting with Dumbledore—the memory still made his blood boil. How dare that hateful arse, who had sworn servitude to his alternate self no less, do this to him? Him? Tom fucking Marvolo Riddle, the descendant of Salazar Slytherin who was going to take the reins of Magical Britain and turn it into the perfect version it ought to be!

Needless to say, Tom had been furious after that lesson and had bitten the inside of his cheek ‘till he tasted blood to stop himself from lounging at Snape and Malfoy, throttle them then torture them until they lost their minds, but he had to settle for kicking the wall of a hidden passage near the infirmary so hard he almost broke his toes. Tom was supposed to always be in control, he knew it was unrealistic that he would always be, but he was not supposed to be as blindsided as he had been. He hated this brazen part of the persona he had put in place, that stemmed from this part of him that made him snap back at people who looked down at him and make them feel like trash for even trying to condescend to him. He had done that to Snape and it had turned into giving the fucking bat the reason he needed to lay it on him even more.

By the time he got into the infirmary he was calm enough to get into his pleasant good boy persona who kept dismissing the fact that he had just been hit with a pretty serious curse. Pomfrey had only tolerated his (intentionally vague) excuses for a while before she called for his Head of House, and Tom was slightly surprised to see the worried expression on the older woman as she listened to Pomfrey talk about his condition; she seemed to really care. Tom had taken that to his advantage and had laid it thick and went with what he thought Harry would do and dismissed everything that happened to him. He’d been quite content to see McGonagall had not been convinced. 

Everything then unfurled in Potions class when she came in and Hermione and Harry had told her what really happened, making Tom not only rise in McGonagall’s esteem but completely get Slughorn on board with him as he had been before. Speaking of the old eccentric man, Tom couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as he rubbed his eyes and stretched on the bed, Slughorn had left a whole cauldron of Felix Felicis out in the open simmering even as he offered some of it as a prize and Tom was more than satisfied with how he quickly thought out scheme led him to acquire some and make Nott and Malfoy’s cauldrons explode as his first taste of revenge. It had been easy amidst the chaos to levitate a vial and fill it with about double the amount Slughorn had offered.

Tom did not believe he needed any additional luck to get his plans to work but at one point they would need to fight the other side and if he could keep himself and Harry safe by offering a small sip of the potion, he would be foolish not to do it.

Harry for his part, seemed happy enough with his win and the new book that let him be neck-to-neck with Tom when it came to first place in the class. Tom found himself excited for having competition instead of resenting it as Hermione seemed to. Whoever this half-blood prince was, he had clearly been passionate about Potions and Tom felt so much satisfaction when he either knew of his little tricks or had found ones even better. The prince also seemed to have scribbled quite a few spells that he and Harry had tried on the dummies in their second visit to the Requirement Room on Friday, and Tom could not help but be impressed by the Muffliato spell even if his own Anti-eavesdropping spell was more potent as it transfigured the sounds outside a certain bubble into silence instead of inducing a buzzing in others ears. And while Harry would page through the book quite often he would always come to Tom if he ever needed to understand something or discuss the reasoning behind the Prince’s instructions. Tom could not help but love the other teen valuing his opinions; having the future hero of the wizarding world’s ear was something he had planned on achieving and it took him a week into Hogwarts to do it. Tom really was a force to be reckoned with, and fuck Snape and the house elves for instilling some doubt into that.

Tom looked at his watch at that happy thought and saw that it was almost twenty past seven and decided to go down and head to Dumbledore’s office who had asked him to visit around seven and a half. He had quite a lot to say to the headmaster, and he would take the walk to build his mental shields even more before their conversation.

“Tom!” he heard as soon as he headed down the stairs and he looked around the room before spotting Ginny Weasley waving at him with a smile he thought was just a bit forced. He tried not to frown as he smiled back at her and she waved him over. Weasley had been acting weird since she mentioned the diary and Tom had steered clear of her just in case it meant something even if Harry had assured him not to worry about it. Ignoring her or giving her the cold shoulder now would not benefit him at all though so he walked over to where she was sitting next to a tall dark-skinned sixth year he saw in some classes.

“Hey Ginny, how are you?” he asked politely and saw as Weasley tensed a bit before she smiled broadly and quite a bit fakely at him. 

“Great, thank you. I don’t know if you and Dean know each other?” she asked and Tom breathed through his nose to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He looked at the teen next to her and nodded at him with a small smile. 

“Yes, of course, we crossed paths though mostly in the bathroom in the mornings for some reason,” he said with a chuckle. Weasley snorted and her boyfriend shook his head. “We really only meet then, don’t we? it’s nice to finally officially meet you though mate. Good to have another muggle-born bloke in our year. Even if you are the male version of Granger.” he said with a smirk and Weasley smacked him on the thigh playfully.

“Ha, well I actually have to go…” he started but Weasley interrupted him. “So your grandfather was a muggle-born right? Is he your paternal or maternal grandfather?” His hand twitched on Fletcher’s wand on the inside of the pocket of his robe but Tom just cocked his head, outwardly confused. He had an idea where this was going. “Well…” he started but there was a hand on his shoulder and he turned to find Harry looking at him in askance.

Ron Weasley and Hermione looked to be engaged in some sort of conversation and had not noticed Harry had shifted away from their little group. “Tom, you weren’t at dinner, is everything all right?” he asked and Tom felt like maybe the vial of Felix Felicis inside the pouch around his neck was working by proxy; he had not wanted to continue this conversation with the annoying Weasley and here Harry was. 

He smiled slightly at Harry who had yet to take off his hand from his shoulder and decided not to focus on the touch even as his personal space was somewhat invaded. Harry seemed to be a tactile person with the people he considered friends even if he was a bit more prone to touch him than his best friends. In any case, Harry had promised he would help with his lies to conceal his identity so Tom decided to make use of that now. 

“I’m all right, I wasn't too hungry so I just rested for a bit. Ginny was actually asking me about my grandfather and while I would love to stay and chat more,” he brandished his wand and cast a Tempus to look at the time before twirling his wand and watching as a small almost transparent circle appeared on the arm of the chair and on his own robes. “I really have to go. Don’t want to keep the headmaster waiting,” he said with a smile and a meaningful look at Harry who frowned a bit before he seemed to realise something and nodding before releasing his grasp on Tom's shoulder. 

“Oh well you better go then, you remember the way to his office don’t you?” 

“Actually—” started Ginny Weasley but Tom ignored her and waved at Hermione just as she and the other Weasley were approaching. 

“Why are you even asking about that Gin? His family got murdered in front of his eyes. It’s barely been two months.” he heard Harry say and Ron Weasley ask what was going on before he left through the portrait hole. The eavesdropping charm he cast right under everyone’s noses was active and he listened in on the conversation as soon as he started walking down the seventh-floor corridor to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office. 

“Honestly Ginny what is this all about?” he heard Hermione ask “I don’t know, I just wanted to know about him I guess, I have this gut feeling about him, and he was really shifty about his grandfather.” Ginny Weasley replied and Tom almost swore out loud. He did not need this. 

“Ginny, listen to me, I don’t know what you have against him but Tom is on our side, he’s had his whole family killed by Voldemort’s followers just for being muggle and his grandfather died protecting him so yeah he’s going to be shifty about that stuff,” Harry said. 

Ginny Weasley scoffed.

“Look Gin, I’m not his biggest fan either but he’s all right you know? A bit of a stuck-up and a total teacher’s pet but it’s Dumbledore who decided to enroll him in Hogwarts, right? So if there was anything not right about him he’d have either not allowed it or he’d have told Harry about it.” Weasley told his sister and Tom found himself begrudgingly appreciating his presence for once. 

“Exactly!” Hermione exclaimed “Harry and I have also spent the most time with him and he’s really just a smart nice young man who went through a lot. I could only imagine how hard it must have been for him to live with his grandfather who had grown really paranoid with age and from what I deduced was really strict. Poor Tom couldn’t even have access to a proper Library and had to do with books his grandfather had stolen from some pureblood family before he moved in with his muggle wife.” she said and Tom smirked feeling somewhat satisfied with the lie he had told Hermione to attest for his vast knowledge. Harry snorted and quickly coughed and Tom rolled his eyes. The other teen really could not keep a stoic face.

“Fine, whatever! I get it! You all think the sun shines from Tom’s arse! Merlin, you're making me feel bad... So yeah okay, I might be wrong. I hate to admit it, but a lot of my anger with him was probably ‘cause he ignored me flirting with him that time in the car and I haven’t really gotten over it.” Weasley said and Tom stopped in front of the Gargoyle just as her brother started sputtering and Harry seemed to have choked on something. What in the bloody hell was going on?

Hermione sighed, sounding about done with everything. “I suppose I can see how you could start holding a bit of a grudge over something like that Ginny but I don’t think Tom’s interested in romance at the moment, which I’m sure a disappointment to quite a few witches and wizards,” she said and Tom frowned just as Ron Weasley started to say something probably stupid. Tom promptly cut the connection then, effectively vanishing the listening circle from the common room as well, and spoke clearly to the Gargoyle. “Acid Pops” before stepping into the spiraling staircase that moved up on its own. 

Hermione was right in that he was not interested in any romantic relationship but he was not really buying Ginny Weasley was being sincere. No, Tom would wager the youngest Weasley had just realised that she was outnumbered and would need more than a gut feeling to get them to believe her. 

Tom would need to do something about her if she kept on being a persistent pest. He had mentioned this to Harry back on Wednesday and the other teen had assured him that Weasley had not seen his younger self get out of the Diary so there was no way she would recognise him. Harry had in fact mentioned that it was most likely because the diary was brought back to the forefront of her mind on Monday night and that he shared a name with her worst nightmare. Tom had been somewhat placated then but with what just happened he would either need to get involved himself or get Harry to handle it and put into action what he agreed to in the deal.

Satisfied enough with his decision, Tom knocked on the door of the office and waited for a beat before Dumbledore’s voice echoed clearly. “Come in.” Tom opened the door and stepped into the now familiar version of the headmaster's office he had grown accustomed to as he took his OWLs. Dumbledore was moving from his desk and gestured for Tom to sit down as he smiled. 

“Ah Tom, it is good to see you, and may I say the Gryffindor colors seem to suit you quite well.”

Tom just smiled blandly at him. 

“Please take a seat, I will be with you in a moment. I just have to arrange something as you have arrived a bit earlier than I expected.” Tom looked at the clock on the desk and saw that he was indeed a couple of minutes earlier than he was supposed to be, and settled down on the seat Dumbledore had pointed at.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle, how is Gryffindor treating you?”

Tom looked around for the voice he identified as that of the sorting hat almost immediately and found the worn old thing sitting atop one of the shelves to his right. He turned to it and considered if ignoring the old thing was an option but relented pretty quickly. 

“It was quite the adjustment, but I have nothing to complain about, except maybe for the gaudy decor.” he said and he thought he heard a faint chuckle from Dumbledore. The hat let out a much louder and gruff laugh. 

“I see my decision to send you to Gryffindor really was not out of place was it?” Tom raised his eyebrows. He thought Dumbledore had convinced the hat to put him in the house of courage, and he said so to the hat, but it just laughed in that dry gruff way again. 

“The headmaster cannot fully influence my decisions. Even this time as he explained the gravity of the situation to me, I had been adamant about following what the founders have instilled in me when deciding where to sort a student. I know you must be confused now” the hat said rightly guessing Tom’s thoughts and he frowned wondering if it was somehow capable of Legilimency from afar like wizards and avoided looking directly at it. “but I have already sorted this world’s Tom Riddle and that young boy had been a right fit for Slytherin, not because he was a direct descendant of the line but because he fits all the criteria. You, on the other hand, are an entity that should not exist in this world, that in addition to the fact, you have a brashness and latent courage in you, made me go along with what the headmaster had advised. You would have just as well been great in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, but in your case, I believe Gryffindor will help you on the path of glory.” The hat said and Tom stared at it, somewhat in awe as it seemed to shrivel back in on itself just as Dumbledore was approaching.

“I haven’t heard the sorting being quite so talkative with a student in about four years. It seems you as well are a major player in this game we call life.” Dumbledore said as he settled down on his chair. Tom looked at the clock and saw it was exactly 7:30 pm. He tried not to roll his eyes and scoff at these shenanigans and plastered a smile on his face.

Dumbledore smiled back at him and pointed to a bowl of yellow candy. “Would you care for a Sherbet Lemon, Tom?” he asked and Tom politely refused, his smile starting to feel strained.

“Sir, I wanted to talk about what happened on Monday.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and brought his left hand to rub at his beard. “Ah yes, the… situation between you and Professor Snape. Minerva did tell me about it, Horace as well had mentioned how simply wonderful you had handled the whole situation. You even managed to earn sixty points for Gryffindor that day. It seems all in all you have managed to handle the situation quite well.” the headmaster said with a bit less warmth in voice than before. Tom narrowed his eyes and smiled.

“I find it slightly worrying that you refer to a Hogwarts professor practically bullying a student as a _situation_ instead of the absolutely unacceptable occurrence that it was.” Dumbledore was staring at Tom directly, and Tom checked his mental defences before he stared right back. “That man—Professor Snape, punished me for knowing how to cast nonverbal spells by taking points then challenged me to a duel where he was adamant about having me beaten and did nothing even as some Slytherin students were casting spells to further lower my chances against him. Now I do not know if that is something you find acceptable as a teaching method, sir, but I personally don't.” 

Dumbledore’s smile had slowly shifted to a neutral expression and he looked gravely at Tom. 

“I can tell you, Tom, I do not find it as acceptable behavior at all, and I can assure you that I have talked to Professor Snape about it and asked him to never endanger his students in this way again.” Dumbledore said. “You see Severus Snape is a great wizard, full of knowledge and has helped the light in more than one occasion…”

“That still does not immediately qualify him to teach, sir!” Tom interrupted and Dumbledore looked at him patiently. “With all due respect, Professor,” he added knowing he should not be foolish enough to disrespect Dumbledore brazenly. “Harry has told me about the horrible things he has done and I witnessed myself as the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes this week seemed to be taught by a very intelligent and knowledgeable man who knew pertinent information, but who presented himself as more of a bully than a teacher. So to think this man was trusted to handle the education of children baffles me. I know there is no such thing as a perfect instructor, but surely there could be a way to ensure this man does not entirely erase this generation’s young wizards’ self-worth.”

There was a silence after that and Tom heard a couple of portraits huff and puff about his audacity of speaking that way to the headmaster as if he knew better and Tom ignored them. Mere echoes of the past had no effect on the present or the future and should not be taken seriously.

Dumbledore sighed after a while and smiled somewhat tiredly at Tom. “I can only try to guess what exactly you are planning to do with this particular plan of yours Tom, but I can tell you that I will not be removing Professor Snape from his position. You have raised quite a few good points, however.”

“My plan is for the future. I want to be the minister of magic and while I’m sure the majority of students have gotten used to him and managed to come out unscathed from seven years of studying under someone like him, I am certain that there are a few who had their self-confidence shaken and their self-esteem attacked and were bullied in the classroom by someone who was supposed to protect them.”

“Did you know I am ambidextrous, sir?” he asked switching tactics and saw as Dumbledore who had been regarding him with a calculating gaze seemed lost for a bit at the change of subject but went along with it anyway and shook his head. “Well, I am. I was not born that way though, I was born left-handed, however, my grandmother beat me until I could write, draw and play Polo with my right hand. It took almost two years after that for me not to flinch every time I saw a stick or each time someone made an abrupt movement next to me, and I am sure it would have taken longer had my father and my nursemaid not been there. Another kid at the village started stuttering because of this forceful conversion that had ultimately failed.” Tom said, affecting a nonchalant tone.

“Sometimes what happens to one as a young child can leave a mark that might never disappear, and damage them in ways nothing else could.” Dumbledore lowered his eyes at that and then rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, looking suddenly much older. Tom decided to register this reaction in his mind for now and moved on.

“Add magic into the mix, and it becomes even more important to make sure we protect young people. From what I have seen the difference between me and my alternate self who had released a Basilisk on the school at my age is how we grew up...” Tom was about to bring up Harry’s past as well but decided against it as he doubted that would be taken well by the other teen and he didn’t need to antagonize him just to further back an argument he already seemed to have won.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and looked Tom in the eyes with what looked like muted surprise. “Well then, after your very convincing arguments I would be quite remiss as headmaster of Hogwarts to stand idly by wouldn’t I? I am not sure where exactly this is coming from, but I see no reason to not heed your words. I will be holding a meeting with the teaching staff to discuss the matters you have brought up. Thank you, Tom.” he said before looking at the clock. It was almost time for his meeting with Harry.

“Well then Tom, this was quite the conversation. If that is all—”

“Actually, sir. I was wondering if I could participate in these lessons as well? I’m sure Harry and I would benefit from this much more together.”

“I see the two of you are on a first-name basis now?” he asked and Tom nodded. 

“That’s quite good, however, I am afraid Tom that these lessons will be about helping Harry get prepared for facing Voldemort and I do not believe your presence will be needed for now.”

Tom sneered inside and smiled outwardly, his eyes passing on the desk and spotting his uncle’s ring. “It seems you have stopped wearing Voldemort’s Horcrux. I assume it also had something to do with your hand?” he asked passively and saw as Dumbledore stiffened and immediately glared up at Tom. Tom smiled at him, feeling like he might regret this later but basking in the satisfaction of seeing Dumbledore so shocked right after he had dismissed Tom so easily.

“I will give you one chance to explain yourself, Tom, before I find myself jumping to conclusions that I am afraid are not at all in your favor.” Dumbledore said in his signature hard voice.

Tom felt yet again the hairs on his neck rise up but he was used to it by now and he had the upper hand. After all, he had a Horcrux in a velvet box hidden around his neck right about now.

“Well you see sir, it was easy enough to figure out the diary was not just a piece of extremely dark magic since possession does not enable one to learn parseltongue, after all. Nor can it be dispelled simply by piercing the cursed object with a basilisk fang. However, the fang that pierced the diary was coated in a venom with no known cure but the rare Phoenix tear, capable of so much destruction that an object that would otherwise always fix itself could be rendered devoid of its magic; it wasn’t hard after that to match all of this with the information I had about Horcruxes.” He paused for dramatic effect and felt the portraits all waiting for his next words with what felt expectant silence.

“As for the ring, I noticed it on your hand that first night I was brought here, and it wasn’t too much of a stretch—considering how it was split in the middle—to suppose that Voldemort who apparently put a part of his soul in a sentimental diary would do the same to a family heirloom that belonged to his mother’s side of the family. And how exactly do I know about the ring?” he asked guessing what Dumbledore was probably wondering, 

“Well. the summer before my fifth year I thought I was old enough to meet my mother’s relative who lived just down the road, knocked at his door, and introduced myself in Parseltongue to earn his trust. Although, all that happened was that I had that quite gaudy ring brandished on me by my deranged uncle as he told me how I would never be worthy of the Gaunt Family name and that I dirtied their blood even worse than my squib whore of a mother. Then he proceeded to try and strangle me.”

“What happened afterward?” Dumbledore asked, and Tom set his shoulders straight as he noticed the intense stare that was directed at him.

“Well, my rugby training and younger physique allowed me to overpower him, perhaps because he looked like he barely had been feeding himself properly. I stunned him after that and this one ministry official Bob Ogden apparated there soon enough and took him to Azkaban.”

“I see…” Dumbledore said in an unreadable tone and Tom guessed he probably did not believe him. “What about the ring? Did you take it?”

“It was rightfully mine so yes I did, and I stored it in my father’s bank vault in London. The Gaunt family was part of the sacred twenty-eight and my political aspirations would have definitely benefited from it especially as I am nothing like the inbred hicks they had been known as.” Tom replied mostly truthfully. Dumbledore remained silent.

“This is why I wanted to schedule talks with you this year, we have quite a lot to discuss don’t we? I believe this proves I am not useless in these lessons to prepare Harry against Voldemort, does it not?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily and got up from his chair, he walked across to Tom and stared down at him. Tom tensed and considered going for his wand but could not move as he felt pinned by the heavy and guarded look Dumbledore was giving him.

“You are dangerous Tom Riddle. Not because of who your counterpart is, but because I cannot ever fully read you or expect what you are about to pull from your hat, so to speak. Yet you are but a child: a sixteen-year-old who knows so much and yet so little. I can only speculate on your true motives and hope that this gamble I have taken since that night will be in our favour.”

“I am smart sir, I can easily connect dots and I have a perspective on things that you and Harry might not have.”

Dumbledore smiled tightly. “Indeed, and one can only wonder what else you have hidden in that head of yours can they not? But you must promise me you will not be telling Harry about Horcruxes yet. He still has a bit more to learn before.”

Tom acquiesced easily enough, he was content not bringing up Horcruxes with Harry especially since after the train ride he had started suspecting something concerning Harry and Voldemort’s connection that Dumbledore himself must have at least thought of. He had zero proof something like that was even possible though, and no realistic enough reason for Voldemort to even perform the ritual.

“I won’t say a word about this. I swear it.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Thank you. For now, I am afraid our little meeting really has come to an end.” he said just as the noise from the gargoyle staircase moving resonated.

There was a knock soon enough and Harry entered the room without being invited. Tom shook his head and got up.

“Thank you for listening to me, sir. I should also tell you Harry and I are practicing a small number of spells together and I am teaching him more spells as he felt he was lacking in that regard.” Tom said smiling at Harry who frowned at him before crossing his arms and looking at Dumbledore.

“Surprisingly, I really am learning quite a lot, sir. Tom does not know how to cast the Patronus Charm, though, so I will be helping him, as he is lacking in that regard.” Harry said with a teasing tone and Tom sighed. 

Dumledore looked between the two of them and chuckled. “I see. Well then have a good night, Tom. I will come back to you with an answer regarding both your requests after I consult with Harry as well.” he said and Harry turned to him askance but Tom just shrugged and headed out.

* * *

Harry had taken him to the kitchen after their second tutoring lesson and showed him the entrance along with the handy fact that the house elves would be more than happy to feed them and give them drinks and whatever it is they needed, so Tom had gotten down and gotten a late dinner. As he was done he took the long trip back to the grand staircase and passed by the dungeons just as a familiar enough flash of icy blonde hair was getting out.

Tom hid behind an armor as Malfoy went up a hidden passage that led directly to the seventh floor and, remembering that he’d seen a flash of blonde hair after Harry and he had gone out of the room of requirement on Monday, he decided to act on his instincts and see what exactly the blonde arsewipe was doing. His suspicions only got more confirmed as he followed him to the corridor with the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and saw him stand in front of the room for a bit before he hurried behind him, slipping inside the door right as he was about to close the door. 

It was the room of hidden things.

Tom looked around and saw Malfoy was heading to the right in one of the corridors of the maze of objects and smirked nastily once he saw him stop in front of a vanishing cabinet. So this was it then. huh?

He quickly disarmed Malfoy as he started muttering something and then conjured ropes of light around him, and watched with satisfaction as the blonde screamed in pain at the heat of the ropes.

“Hello Draco Malfoy.” he said with a smile as he disillusioned himself and watched with glee as the other teen’s face paled for a bit before he turned redder than a rash.

“You fucking Mudblood filth I—”

“ _Crucio_ ,” Tom said with a nasty smile as he watched the blonde’s eyes widen in pain as he screamed. He had still not forgiven Malfoy for the stunt he pulled in Defence and the multiple barbs and insults he'd kept throwing at him all week. It was time to teach him a lesson and let him see Tom without any of his masks on. After all, a baby Death Eater could prove useful.

The screams petered out when Malfoy threw up and Tom finally stopped the spell, cleaning up the mess because he did not feel like smelling that foulness.

“See, this is how you cast a proper Crucio, Draco. You don’t mind that I call you Draco, do you?” he asked “It’s just I know Voldemort likes to call his followers by their first names, give them the illusion they’re his friends rather than pawns he could care less about, so I’m sure you’re used to it, aren’t you?” 

Malfoy glared up at him despite his body still violently shaking “You won’t get away with this, whoever you are… You do not know who you’re messing with.” he said with a gasping breath and Tom smiled down at him.

“Whoever I am… I see you aren’t stupid enough to keep thinking I’m just some random mudblood. I won’t directly answer you but I will give you a hint, how about that? Let’s make it a game, I’m sure as Slytherin’s seeker you would appreciate a game.”

Malfoy glared at him weakly and tried to struggle with his binds, but seemed smart enough not to say anything and instead watched with growing fear as Tom conjured a large boa constrictor.

“ _Wrap yourself around his legs and be mindful of the ropes._ ” he ordered the reptile and watched with satisfaction as it slithered to Malfoy and started wrapping around his legs. He switched out the light cords around Malfoy’s arms for regular ropes and smiled at his completely fear-stricken expression.

“Y-you… t-that, n-no, i-mpossible! You’re—” 

“ _Squeeze on his legs slightly and hiss at him._ ” he ordered the snake who muttered an excited yes before tightening his hold on Malfoy.

“Wrong answer, Draco. I expected better from you.” he said with a tut. Malfoy was shivering even harder than before and was trying to get his face as far away as he could from the boa, but as his legs and arms were bound all he could manage was stretch his neck out and whimper slightly.

“One more time, who do you think I am?”

“Y-You speak parseltongue, y-you’re like the-the Dark L-Lord.”

“ _You can stop squeezing him so hard_ ,” he said to the boa who obeyed immediately and hissed slightly at Malfoy before settling down.

“Good answer, you’re getting closer, now let me give you another hint. Why do you think I know so much about Voldemort? Give me the right answer and I will vanish the snake, but if it's a wrong answer… well we wouldn’t want that would we?”

Malfoy seemed on the verge of tears as he stared fearfully at the boa for a while and then looked at Tom and took a deep breath. _Occlumency training, huh? Impressive_ Tom thought as he saw Malfoy calm down completely and close his eyes as if to think.

“You have one minute to think about your answer.” Tom supplied, and Malfoy nodded.

After exactly sixty seconds Malfoy opened his eyes and stared at Riddle, fear in his eyes but an air of calm still in his expression.“You’re related to him somehow, you’re his grandson or-” Tom sighed

“ _Wrap yourself around his whole body and squeeze harder than before_ ” he ordered and the boa complied as Malfoy screamed. “No wait, wait, please you’re related to him somehow, but you’re not his family member… please I don’t know I can’t!” he screamed as the boa kept on coiling tighter and tighter around him until there was a small crack.

Tom vanished the snake and smirked, Malfoy had been taught his lesson well enough by now it seemed as he cried and hiccoughed roughly. “Any more than that and you would have been crushed wouldn’t you? But I am merciful, unlike your current Lord.” Tom said and shifted Malfoy to a sitting position against the closed Vanishing cabinet.

“Are you not going to thank me for that?” he asked then as Malfoy was still panting.

“T-thank you…”

“You can call me Tom, that is my name. Tom Marvolo Riddle, a half-blood who was born in 1926, and then grew up and got rid of this common muggle name for the title of Lord Voldemort. Yes the same Lord whose mark you have tattooed on your skin.” Tom added as Malfoy’s eyes widened in shock then disbelief that was hastily hidden as Tom grabbed his left arm and pulled up the sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark.

He was about to touch it when Malfoy tensed. “D-don’t touch it, he might feel it and he will kill me, he will kill me if he realises I’ve been found out, please.” he pleaded and Tom heeded his warning, it was months before he would make himself known to Voldemort.

He examined the mark “Because if it came to Dumbledore's knowledge that Voldemort has sent in a Death Eater into school grounds, his plans would be ruined wouldn’t they? Plans that apparently involve you fixing this vanishing cabinet so you can sneak people in from Borgin and Burkes, right?” Malfoy’s eyes widened and he whimpered as Tom roughly grabbed his face. “He wants you to help infiltrate his followers or even himself to Hogwarts? Why? To get to Harry Potter? Answer me!”

Tom cast Legilimens on him but saw that his mental defences were quite high and all the memories he could see were about Harry and Malfoy fighting and the twisted feelings inside Malfoy’s gut. Snarling, Tom cut off the spell and kicked him instead. 

Malfoy screamed and Tom could see tears forming in his eyes again, he sighed. He’d need to practically break the other teen to extract information forcefully from him so he settled on another approach.

“You know Draco, if he does find out someone knows your secret, he will not just kill you. No, I’m sure he would kill your mother first in front of you” Malfoy was fully crying now and Tom ignored his silent tears “Or he will torture her to insanity and have you kill her, maybe get your auntie Bellatrix Black to help; she did get arrested for torturing the Longbottoms until they lost their marbles didn’t she?”

Snot was falling down Malfoy’s face and Tom knew he almost had him cracked. “But then again knowing Voldemort as well as I know him as a past version of him...” Malfoy whimpered loudly and started muttering something inaudible. Tom smiled and continued “Knowing him as well I do, I would wager your Lord will not settle for something so fast, so simple. No, he will probably arrange your father’s escape from Azkaban and have him torture both you and your mother; a little family reunion riddled with carnage and screams. He would love that. Your father will have to keep an impassive face while he tortures his cherished son, as he—”

“Stop, please stop! I will tell you, just please stop. He wants me to kill Dumbledore, he ordered me to kill him by the end of the year and the vanishing cabinet is to get help from other Death Eaters. Just please don’t let him find out. I can’t, I can’t—”

Tom brushed Malfoy’s hair back gently and watched as his eyes widened in shock at the contact. Tom vanished the snot and tears as well and shushed Malfoy. “That’s quite all right, Draco. Thank you for telling me, see it was not that hard was it?” he said with a kind smile and Malfoy hiccoughed and started tearing up again. “You did really good, Draco. You were really scared, weren’t you? You’re a good person at heart, aren’t you? You don’t want your parents to be hurt, you don’t want to be hurt do you?” he kept brushing Malfoy’s hair as the other teen started calming down and nodding.

Tom figured Malfoy would react most to a mix between torture and kindness as he had listened to Harry rant about how arrogant and spoiled Malfoy was. And while he ran his hand through blonde hair, he was satisfied to see that his supposition had been correct. Now for the final nail on the coffin.

“I won’t tell anyone about this, not Potter not Dumbledore, but you will have to join me. Join me and I will protect you from all of them and make sure your family stays safe.” Malfoy looked up at him and seemed to be coming back to his senses as he reluctantly leaned away from his hand. Tom let him.

“You’re probably thinking how I could possibly protect you? Well, it’s simple, I will help Potter defeat Voldemort and take his place. I know all his secrets after all, including why he came back after he was seemingly killed by Potter back in 1981.” Malfoy’s eyes were wide as he listened and Tom smiled pleasantly at him, which for some reason made the other divert his eyes.

“I-how can I? I cannot just drop everything, I didn't even realise he would do this to punish me! I was foolish, I wanted to honor my father and take away from the ire the Dark Lord had towards him but instead, he is just trying to punish me. I can do it, though! I can fix this cabinet and have Dumbledore killed. I will have the glory—” Tom slapped him hard, and Malfoy flinched when he glared up at him and saw Tom’s angry glare.

“You’re starting to make me mad, Draco, remember whose mercy you’re at right now. You’re miles and miles away from Voldemort but I’m in the same castle as you. Do not forget that. How well do you know how to fix a vanishing cabinet in any case? How long would it take you alone? Is that what you want to do? For me to wipe your memories and leave you to do this task on your own, huh? You’re quite confident now, but I can tell you fixing a magical object is no easy picnic, with or without the help.”

“H-how can I trust you, you say you’re not like Voldemort and you will protect me but how can I trust you? You’re in Gryffindor and the Dark Lord he…”

“We can sign a magical contract eventually, for now, you are not in any danger from Voldemort, only from me. Joining me can be oh so rewarding, especially in the future” He ran his hand through Malfoy’s hair again, and this time the other hesitated for a bit before staying put and even leaning into the touch. 

“I know how to kill Voldemort.” he said and Malfoy’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “You have seen me speak parseltongue, haven’t you? I am also using Harry Potter to further my own advancement in society once he beats Voldemort.” Malfoy frowned at that and Tom shushed him with a finger on his mouth before he could say anything.

“Regardless of your conflicted feelings for Harry Potter, he has a link with Voldemort that will eventually allow us to kill him, for good this time. I’m sure you have more questions, but earn my trust, show me I can rely on you as one of my own and I will not only share more with you but I can assure you after he is defeated you can enjoy a prestigious position in the Ministry I plan on building. Yes, I am planning on becoming Minister, and having a Malfoy on my side will help my case once I come forward as Slytherin’s heir who helped defeat his distant relative Voldemort.” Malfoy was biting his lower lip, looking uncertain and Tom went in for the kill and brought both his hands around his face. Gently caressing the sting from his earlier slap. “Join me Draco, and together we could build a future where Wizards prosper without unnecessary carnage and death.”

Malfoy seemed to blush for a bit and nodded eventually. “I-I will help you.”

Tom faked a bright smile and hugged Malfoy with fake enthusiasm. The other teen responded really well to physical touch and Tom was going to take advantage of that. Malfoy stiffened for a bit before he relaxed and put his chin on Tom’s shoulder after a tired sigh.

“Now for the contract, let’s discuss it.” Tom said and Malfoy nodded warily, his cheeks still somewhat red.

* * *

Tom and Malfoy had talked over the points they wished to put in the contract and while Tom’s clauses were that they both keep each other’s secrets, Malfoy had wanted it written that Tom would support him and help him with killing Dumbledore, which meant the other teen was still not fully on board and had agreed just to get him to stop torturing him. Tom still found that acceptable, Dumbledore would die by the end of the year so that clause would be null by then. The final clause they had both agreed on, was that they would always help each other in order to evade direct confrontation from Voldemort. Any attempt at a breach of contract would result in an Obliviate spell and alerting the other party who would have all rights to retaliation. Tom had said he would need some time to arrange for the appropriate spells and they agreed to meet back next Saturday to sign it. 

“We’ll be both going on in good faith for a week, we have nothing to gain from telling on each other do we?” he asked as they were heading out of the room and Malfoy shook his head. “I-I have a lot to think about, but I will not tell anyone, the Dark Lord might not…”

“ _Imperio_ ” said Tom and Malfoy’s eyes glazed over. 

“Were you planning on telling Voldemort who I was in order to gain some advantage with him?”

Malfoy nodded “I was considering it.” and Tom sighed. It wasn’t surprising. He took off the spell and watched as Malfoy paled and tried reaching for his wand. Tom pushed him against the wall.

“It seems I was mistaken to take you on your word alone. Do you want me to cast the Imperius on you again?”

Malfoy struggled, “I was just considering it I swear, I was not going to do it…” Tom pushed hard against him and watched with satisfaction as he exacerbated the pain from his previous bruises with the snake.

“Shut up! Our contract is void since I cannot trust you. Now I will obliviate you and tell Dumbledore everything.” 

“No, no please I will do anything, please… please I’m sorry Tom” Tom pushed harder against him and watched with satisfaction as he cried out in pain.

“Anything? even an unbreakable vow?” Tom whispered into Malfoy’s ear who shivered but nodded. “Anything.”

Tom smiled at him and brushed his hair back and saw the tension leave his body. “You like having your hair brushed, Draco?” he asked and watched as the other teen blushed and spluttered.

“I don’t mind it, I think it’s a bit adorable.” Tom lied. He did not care one bit.

Malfoy blushed harder and grumbled something “You see it could always be like this between us, Draco. I can take care of you, wouldn’t you want that? You like me better like this don’t you?” Malfoy nodded.

“All right then, _Imperio_. I want you to quickly go down to your dorm and make sure no one sees you before you cast the Imperius on one of your dorm mates and bring him up here, and don't forget to act natural!” he said and watched Malfoy leave the room.

Five minutes later the door opened and Malfoy and Zabini entered the room, Tom immediately disarmed and stunned Zabini in case something was afoot.

He took off Malfoy’s Imperius and watched as he lowered his eyes to the ground where Zabini laid and looked up at Tom with a furious glare. “Are you mad I made you do this Draco? It’s your fault though, you know that right?” 

Malfoy raised his wand and Tom disarmed him before he cast a Crucio. “You don’t agree with me then? You don’t want me to be kind to you anymore do you?” he said as he stopped the curse. Malfoy was crying on the floor and Tom grabbed him by the hair roughly and pulled him up.

“This is the second time you have truly disappointed me, one more strike, and I will deliver you to Dumbledore myself. It seems taking a soft approach with you does not work.” He tightened his hold on Malfoy’s hair and kneed him in the gut.

The other teen was sobbing again and Tom cast Crucio again, and again. “I did not want to do this, but you forced my hand Malfoy. I was ready to welcome you as an equal but you don’t want that, do you? You want Voldemort, you want the glory that will come from serving a lunatic who will treat you like the trash you are. Crucio” and Malfoy’s voice had gone hoarse for a while now but he could not stop himself from crying out in pain until the spell stopped. Tom was not exactly angry, he had the situation in control but he needed Malfoy to understand that between him and Voldemort’s distant threat he was the bigger danger. The better leader to claim allegiance to. Malfoy was twitching violently on the ground, tears in his eyes and an imploring look on his face as he looked up at Tom.

“Please just finish me off… I don’t-I don’t want this.” he said and Tom kicked him until he was laying on his back.

“What do you want Malfoy? I will not kill you, I clearly have more use for you like this. All I will do to finish you off is obliviate you and your friend and go tell Harry Potter everything. Is that what you want?”

Malfoy weakly shook his head “No he will go after my mother,”

“Then what do you want? Because I’m not sure I can go back to being kind to you like before. You betrayed my trust twice, while all I did was try to have you join me.” 

“I’m sorry I will do the vow, just please give me another chance.”

“Really? Well then get up, Malfoy!” he shouted and the other flinched but begrudgingly stood up. Tom woke up Zabini “Prove you want to be forgiven!” he ordered and the other coughed before he got a resolute look on his face.

“Blaise, come point your wand on our joined hands and be prepared to cast an unbreakable vow.” he said and reached out hesitantly for Tom who grabbed his hand roughly and ignored the other’s flinching. They waited until Zabini put his hand over their joined hands before Tom spoke.

“Will you, Draco Malfoy, engage yourself to never betray my trust to the best of your ability?”

Malfoy swallowed. “I will.” and a fiery tongue of flames wound its way around their linked hands from Zabini’s hand.

“Will you, Draco Malfoy, pledge to never divulge by any means my true identity or plans to any other living being or sentient object, to never write about it and to always protect that secret?”

“I will.” another jet of fire came out of Zabini and coiled around their hands like a snake before dissipating. 

“And will you, Draco Malfoy, promise never to raise your wand against me with the intent of harm or with malice?”

Malfoy hesitated but eventually looked resolved. “I will.” A third and final flame string tied their hands together. It was done.

Malfoy sighed and stumbled down, and Tom caught him. Rubbing a hand on his back, and felt him flinch before exhaling and relaxing.

“There, now you did well. That’s good. See I could have made you swear to something else but all I did was assure you would not betray me again, and that’s for both of our benefits. If you don’t betray my trust I will not hurt you, you see?”

“Now then let’s get you all patched up shall we? Draco, come on, sit down I’ll help you.” he made Malfoy settle down and stunned Zabini again before he brought out a potion from his pouch and made Malfoy drink it. The other went easily with it. “Good boy” he caressed Malfoy’s hair and watched with a bit of humor as he leaned into the touch. Human beings were truly fascinating, weren’t they?

“Feel better?” Malfoy nodded and Tom smiled at him. 

“Good, now let me fix your ribs and you can go on your way. Since you eventually did well and redeemed yourself I’ll still prepare the contract all right?” Tom said as he healed to the best of his abilities Malfoy’s ribs. 

Malfoy looked up at him in surprise and Tom chuckled. “I told you, I’m not Voldemort. I appreciate you willingly doing the vow with me, that must not have been easy.” 

“I’m sorry if I went too hard earlier, but we’re good now, aren’t we? I meant what I said before too we are equals in this, now that I will not have to worry about your betrayal.”

“I didn’t want to betray you… I want the world you mentioned, I want to be at the top of the chain, but he is so powerful, so frightening and I could not…” Tom almost rolled his eyes but he just shushed Malfoy again and smiled at him. “It’s all right, it’s all in the past. I would like for us to be friends now, and remember if you need something I’m here for you.” Another lie but Malfoy seemed desperate to believe him or just to have this all over with it so he nodded.

“The two of us will be unstoppable.” he lied one more time, putting his hand on Malfoy’s shoulder and Malfoy finally met his eyes with a hesitant smile.

* * *

Tom came back to the common room and thankfully found it empty before he hurried up the stairs into the bathroom. He relieved himself and changed into his pajamas but when he finished brushing his teeth and turned around he saw Harry glaring at him.

“ You're pretty late, huh? So where exactly were you?” Harry asked the suspicious glare he hadn’t pointed Tom’s way for quite some time back on his face again.

Tom closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Telling Harry some type of truth would be the best thing to get rid of that closed-off, angry and suspicious scowl on his face.

“Answer me, what were you doing?” Harry whispered angrily and Tom closed the bathroom door and cast Muffliato. 

“I went down to the kitchens for a snack before bed and saw Malfoy taking a secret passage to the seventh floor, I followed him closely and slipped into the Room of Requirement where he and Zabini had started to duel. You’d be glad to know that unlike you in the train, I was not spotted and I heard confirmation from Malfoy he’s a Death Eater.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped along with his suspicious glare and he smiled at Tom who found himself liking this much better than the angry scowling from before. “He did? That’s brilliant! So we can be sure he’s a Death Eater, Hermione and Ron won’t have anything to argue with. What did he say exactly?”

Tom smiled indulgently “I believe it was something like ‘Unlike my father, I will succeed, Blaise, and the glory I will receive will be unprecedented.’ Zabini left a bit after that but before he joined him Malfoy also muttered something about needing to really fix that Vanishing Cabinet.” 

Harry hummed and scratched at his chin in thought. “He didn’t exactly mention anything outright so I doubt Ron and Hermione would be quite ready to believe it yet, but I definitely do. Maybe he’s being vague because it’s a secret mission. And the vanishing cabinet again you said? That’s somehow part of this mission...I wonder what happened to that vanishing cabinet from last year? Maybe if we could get our hands on one we could do something...”

Tom smiled, Harry had almost hit the nail on the head but he was a bit far off. Tom will tell Harry eventually about Malfoy’s plans; he would just need to phrase the contract clauses in ways that will allow for major loopholes. Malfoy was the one bound by an unbreakable vow, in any case, Tom owed him nothing while telling Harry this would help him earn the other’s trust even more.

“Were you waiting for me though? I honestly thought your lessons with Dumbledore would take longer.” Tom asked and Harry looked sheepish for a bit before he sighed. “I wasn't exactly waiting for you but I wanted to ask you something and well you weren't here and no one had seen you so yeah." Tom's eyebrows rose. "So what did you want to ask me?"

Harry straightened up and had a serious look on his face again. "Well, it's about what you said to Dumbledore, why do you think you should be allowed in on the lessons, wouldn't it be enough I'm there and I tell you if there is anything important?" Harry asked and Tom frowned. Harry was definitely acting a lot more guarded than he had this last week. Could it be that Dumbledore had said something? He tightened his grip on his own hand and shrugged passively, trying his hardest not to look furious that Dumbledore was ruining his plans yet again.

"I just thought my being there would bring a fresh, smart perspective to the mix into whatever it is you guys are doing." 

Harry smiled tightly. "Right, well Dumbledore told me it was okay to tell you and Ron and Hermione about it. He is basically giving me insight that is tightly related to my being the Chosen One or so he said, and he began with showing me a memory of before you were born with your family attacking a ministry official and... the things you already told me about your mother. Except in this world, your father did not take you with him as a baby." Harry said and Tom felt that familiar tightness in his chest whenever his mother would be brought up. He hated how weak and pathetic she had been but he also owed her his magic and his Slytherin heritage.

"I see. Well, I would be happy to give you whatever insight you need, if any. For now, if you will excuse me, I'm exhausted." he said and went past Harry into the sixth-year dormitory. 

_So Dumbledore was taking an in-depth into Voldemort's life_ thought Tom as he got into bed and closed the curtains around him. For what purpose would that old goat need to do this? Was it a case of _Know thy enemy and know yourself_? Maybe...This meant Dumbledore believed that Harry knowing as much as he could about Voldemort would somehow help him as a Chosen. And the Chosen One's role was to defeat Voldemort. So the Horcruxes then... Yes! That was it! 

Tom heard shuffling in the room and figured it was Harry. Most Gryffindors were still down by the fireplace doing homework but Tom needed his space again and it was too early for anyone to sleep, so he wasn't surprised when Harry's voice asked tentatively. "Tom..."

"I'm just really tired, good night Harry," he said in a pleasant enough tone. Harry mumbled back a good night and walked away unaware of the fact that Dumbledore was probably setting him up to look for whatever Horcrux of Voldemort's was left and Tom would be right there to help him. First, though, he would need to damage control to whatever the old fool said to Harry to make him treat Tom with this coolness that he hadn't shown in a while now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom is not a good guy lol. He might be well adjusted enough but he is not by any means capable of too much human empathy and will not hesitate to destroy someone if they threaten him. Malfoy is not connected to Harry or Dumbledore so he will go batshit against him when he is threatening him or his plans. So yeah nothing between Tom and Draco is slashy or building up to something between them since I got a comment about it; it's just a depiction of torture.
> 
> Also for him with Dumbledore, did Tom really get beat up, or was he born ambidextrous and just saw another village child get beat for being left-handed? Who knows... His argument held more weight with that example in any case.
> 
> Dumbledore kinda starts hearing alarm bells about Tom but again has no proof to think any shenanigans are going on, and he ultimately believes he would help against Voldemort and has no intention of becoming a dark lord so he lets shit go in a way.
> 
> As for Draco, I originally did not plan on having him play a big role in the story hence he wasn't even in the characters tags of the fic but I found that I wanted him more involved because he is given the short end of the stick and why the hell wouldn't he be affected by Tom's presence in this timeline. Thing is, in canon, I feel Draco was arrogant and only thinking of the Glory he would get when he succeeds during the first half of the book but then as things don't go to plan and the year is moving forward he starts losing hope and becomes a mess. Tom hit him with the fact that he will get tortured and is being punished with this task more than anything else in Diagon Alley, so doubts got instilled by then. It didn't help that Draco's bi ass (which yes he's bi in my fic) didn't only find Potter attractive but the new mudblood as well so yeah. Also, the whole liking his hair brushed thing is from the books too Pansy was all up on that in the train and good for her. 
> 
> Draco's timeline in Hogwarts IMO goes: comes back with the vanishing cabinet plan already in mind, finds it in then decides to move it to the room of requirement (or maybe wishes for it in the room and it brings the cabinet there), and he asks for a place to hide things and ends up in the room of hidden things.
> 
> Next chapter (probably, maybe not): We stay with Tom's POV as he does more plotting, more emotional manipulation while there are quidditch tryouts and visits to Hagrid he does not care for and an incident with a cursed pendant.


	10. Sowed Discord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom indulges Harry, meets up with Malfoy, and has some fun before his Saturday veers for the unpleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah there's some minor smut involved. check the end notes for more details and please comment your thoughts <3

It was Tuesday evening and Tom dipped a piece of bread on his bowl of soup as his thoughts wandered to Malfoy. He needed to go check on the blonde who had spent the past week mostly absent from classes and gaining more and more suspicion from Harry, and while still a bit chilly with Tom, Harry could not help but come to him to rant about Malfoy as Tom was the least likely to scoff at him for his musings.

“What do you think Malfoy’s doing? I bet he’s faking being sick so he can be free to do what he wants.” Harry said on Tuesday evening as they were all seated for dinner

Tom took a sip of his soup and pretended he was considering what Harry just said while Weasley shrugged, his mouth full of mashed potatoes and Hermione frowned. “I heard Parkinson talking to her friend in the bathroom, Harry. She’d said Malfoy fell from his broom on Sunday and cracked his ribs and that he also managed to contract some type of magical cold. Madame Pomfrey had to keep him in the infirmary. I doubt he’s faking anything.” she said with a put-upon tone as if Harry should know better than to accuse someone of being sick.

It of course escalated into a whispered argument that Tom tried his best to ignore. Weasley gave him an exasperated look that Tom had returned with slight reluctance. 

By Friday night, they had all been subjected to multiple scenarios and ways Malfoy could have used in order to fake being sick so he could sneak around to the Room of Requirement and do evil things. Tom had even heard Harry mutter something to Weasley and Hermione about how the prat had completely disappeared, while Hermione would tell him he was just not looking hard enough or _it_ was not working properly. 

There was something they were all hiding from Tom and he did not like it one bit. 

Weasley and Hermione had remained the same with him through this week though, and even Harry had maintained their usual dynamic from the past week even if he was less prone to touching him or smiling at him like before. 

However, Tom felt like he was winning him over again as when they were about to go to sleep that night, Harry had asked Tom to stay behind with him in the common room and had cast a Muffliato before they settled on the couch. 

“What is it?” Tom asked and Harry took a deep breath before he looked at Tom.

“It’s about the memory of Bob Ogden, this ministry official—”

“Who worked in the DMLE, yes I’m familiar.” Tom finished with a smile. 

Harry opened his mouth then closed it and looked at Tom quizzically. “How?”

“Well one time when I was fourteen I was almost killed by my crazy uncle, and Ogden had shown up to arrest him after I stunned him with his own wand. He had nothing but praise for me when I told him I managed to subdue the man who attacked me because I was muggle-born.”

Harry stared at him for a bit before he sighed. “So you recognised the ring on Dumbledore’s hand?” Tom raised his eyebrows and Harry scratched the back of his head, “I saw you staring at it for a bit this summer.” he explained and Tom smiled while he cursed himself to be obvious enough to be spotted. Then again at that time, he’d dismissed him as some stupid Gryffindor Dumbledore was mentoring and still had no idea who Harry Potter really was. Or just how fucking astute and smart he could be.

There was a long silence then and Tom asked politely enough “Is that all you wanted to ask then?”

Harry shrugged. “You kind of answered my question, I was just curious if you ever had to deal with your uncle. Is that when you found out you were the heir of Slytherin?”

Tom considered what to say for a little bit before he shook his head. “No, my father told me my mother’s relatives were able to talk to snakes and that her last name was Gaunt, it wasn’t hard after that to look into the Pure-blood Directory which had been published in the early 1930s and trace back the lineage to rumored relatives of Slytherin.”

Harry let out a short whistle that Tom had learned meant he was impressed. “You’re really dedicated aren’t you Tom?" he asked rhetorically and Tom winked at him. Harry bit his lip and averted his eyes before he asked in a softer voice "What do you think Dumbledore wants me to learn by showing me all of this?”

Tom hummed and rubbed at his chin as he faked being deep in thought. He knew Dumbledore needed Harry to know all of this because he would need it should he start looking for however many Horcruxes of Voldemort there were left and that with his own life in jeopardy, Dumbledore needed to hand the reins over to the Chosen One, the Savior, prophesied to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort. He could not say any of that, though, nor was he inclined to share these precious nuggets of information even after Dumbledore told Harry about the Horcruxes. He settled for a half-truth. 

“Knowing Voldemort intimately would allow you to learn how he thinks, what his weaknesses might be, and how he came to be who he is. I can of course help with some of these, but because our lives diverged as babies there would be quite a bit of difference.”

Harry smiled slightly at Tom as he dispelled his anti-eavesdropping spell and Tom realised that smile was a sight Tom hadn’t seen in quite a while. He had almost missed it. 

Almost.

* * *

Tom woke up as he was wont to do at 5 am the morning after and stared at his bedpost as he got rid of the morning grogginess and rubbed the dried drool off his face. He had to get up as Malfoy and he had agreed before they parted ways in front of the room of requirement to meet up the next Saturday at dawn in one of the dungeons' rooms. Tom had managed to gain a rich pureblood like Malfoy as his follower and he needed to make sure the other was not messing Tom’s plans by being too obvious about his injuries and the aftereffects of the Cuciatus curse. After all, he was not being inconspicuous at all, even if his excuse about falling off his broom was better than nothing, Tom would have preferred he had just come to class. 

With a sigh, Tom got up and quietly got out of the dormitory, throwing a plain black robe over his pajamas and slipping out of the portrait hole, ignoring yet again the fat lady’s stupid mutterings about being forced open so early in the morning. Her ramblings quieted down when she couldn’t find anyone to grumble at as Tom was disillusioned and he felt annoyed yet again that he had been sorted in Gryffindor. He did not have to deal with some pesky obnoxious shell of a woman back in Slytherin as not only was the entrance a silent wall but also him being a parseltongue had made the common room open up more secrets to him than it did others. Secrets that could even allow him entry to the common room from the chamber of secrets. Which reminded him; he still needed to visit this timeline’s chamber and would do it soon.

Tom walked down the empty castle that had always held a special place in his heart, feeling both nostalgic and at ease with the familiar halls that thrummed with magic and were filled with secrets. He decided against taking any shortcuts to go down to the dungeons and almost regretted his decision when he heard a cat hissing. He had stepped on the darned thing’s tail, Merlin be damned! The loathsome Hogwarts caretaker stopped and seemed to be having a conversation with his cat about intruders hidden away and Tom easily walked around the now-vigilant Filch and his damned cat and made sure to drop an armor on him for the forceful way he had manhandled Tom as he subjected him to his probity-probe back when he first arrived at Hogwarts. 

Harry had somehow managed to avoid being controlled after McGonagall had dismissed him their first day back but Tom didn’t have such luck. Not that Tom ever considered himself to be a lucky person, but the more time he spent in this timeline the more he reconsidered that belief. He’d been lucky enough his father took him in and did not leave him with a squib of a mother whose only act of magic was brewing a love potion to get married. But his luck seemed to have started waning the moment he had touched that godforsaken artifact in the Room of Requirement that sent him careening 53 years into the future on a different timeline. Ever since then; from the doxy bite to being at the mercy of a house elf, getting humiliated by a fucking Death Eater in DADA class, and Dumbledore still managing to throw a spanner in the works of his plans even though he was practically at Death’s doors; Tom could not catch a fucking break. So yes, Tom was clearly not benefiting from the same lucky streak he had before and he needed to be even more on his guard and start planning even more thoroughly.

He would need to think carefully of a way to get Harry Potter to forget whatever shite ideas Dumbledore had fed him and turn this new situation with Malfoy into something that would profit him immensely in his schemes to foil Voldemort’s plans and make that pathetic lunatic—as Weasley had once said— _eat shit_. It was with the somewhat amusing imagery of Voldemort falling on his face in front of the Riddle manor dirt road that Tom opened the door to one of the deepest rooms in the dungeons. There were shackles being levitated up in the air and a flash of blonde hair as Malfoy turned around with his wand at the ready, dropping the metal with a loud clang. 

Tom had nothing to fear but he still made sure to grab Fletcher’s wand which he used for most of the dubiously legal spells in case Dumbledore decided to check his spells. That old coot was as unpredictable as he was obnoxiously cheerful after all.

“Good morning Draco,” he said with a smile seemingly disregarding the wand pointed at him. Malfoy swallowed and put his wand back in his robes before he looked up at Tom. His eyes looked sunken as if he had not slept a wink the whole week and his hair was in disarray. It was as Tom had feared, this would not do.

“G-Good morning…” Malfoy replied avoiding Tom’s eyes and flinching once Tom took a step forward. Frowning as if mad at himself for showing weakness, Malfoy straightened up his posture and took a deep breath before he seemed to brace himself when Tom was only a couple of steps away.

“How are you feeling Draco?” he asked in a gentle voice he was not completely in the mood for. But then again, the other teen had sworn an unbreakable vow that benefited Tom immensely and bound the blonde to him for life. 

Malfoy let out a breath and squared his shoulders before he looked at Tom “Well, you tortured me, cracked my ribs, and made me sign myself over to you. I betrayed everything my father and family stand for and I endangered myself and my family for a past version of the most powerful and terrifying wizard. So you tell me.” he said with a sneer and snark that he’d been using with Tom ever since they’d met in Madam Malkin’s boutique. 

Tom did not mind the snark, especially since Malfoy seemed to be smart enough to not outright insult Tom, just use sarcasm as Slytherins were wont to do. Tom had no interest in having a sniveling, cowardly, and fearful follower, no he needed them to have fear, devotion, and loyalty. Malfoy clearly feared him, the other two emotions would come with time after Tom delivers on his promises to help with Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Tom tutted and smiled slightly. “Well, I doubt I’d have had your assistance had I not taken some… extreme measures.” Malfoy scoffed and Tom smiled wider. “But remember Draco, the worst of what you got was when you started disappointing me, that was the lesson I meant to teach you last week.” He watched with satisfaction as Malfoy wet his lips and averted his eyes, cheeks turning slightly pink once Tom leaned closer. The fear hid behind a pureblood mask of semi-composure. Nothing better than that, Tom thought fondly as he remembered how his own fellow Slytherins had started fearing him in the second year once he spoke parseltongue.

“You look quite a bit like your grandfather, I don’t know if anyone ever told you that,” Tom said apropos of nothing and Malfoy narrowed his eyes before he took a step back from Tom and sat on what looked like an old torture table. “Right, so that’s why my father is under the service of the Dark Lord? It started with my grandfather?” Tom nodded and Malfoy hummed. “Why are you against him, though? If the Dark Lord and you are the same person, why have you not joined him?” Malfoy continued and Tom raised one brow.

“If? So you do not believe he and I are the same person? Not too eager to believe your family decided to serve a half-blood, are we?” he asked in a much more frigid tone and Malfoy looked like he’d swallowed a sour lemon. He looked up at Tom slightly in panic and fidgeted as Tom glared at him. It wasn’t like Tom was actually upset, Malfoy was showing a bit of backbone as well as a critical mind. 

“I-I apologise, I did not—” Malfoy stuttered out but Tom cut him off with a wave of his hand. He took out his wand and Malfoy flinched before he closed his eyes and braced himself by squaring his shoulders but Tom rolled his eyes and wrote his full name with glowing letters in the air with his wand. He waited until Malfoy looked at the lights that spelled out TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE before he shuffled the letters around and spelled “I AM LORD VOLDEMORT”. Malfoy took in the words and gaped at Tom who huffed softly. 

“Yes, your precious Dark Lord got his name from making an anagram of our full name, quite juvenile if you ask me. But also highly amusing considering he has managed to make the whole wizarding fear an anagram I made when I was twelve and bored.” 

Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and looked even more tired as he sighed before he shook his head and chuckled. “What a bloody stupid arse I am… But could it be that Father knows the Dark Lord is a mu— I mean his blood status? You knew my grandfather so he must have known you were not a pureblood, how did—” 

“How did he decide to become a Death Eater? Well, just like you Draco, they came to fear me because of my magic and because ‘muddied’ blood or not, I was still Slytherin’s heir. Once I opened the chamber of secrets and killed that girl, their devotion only grew.”

Malfoy’s mouth dropped “So it was you! You opened the chamber fifty years ago! You killed that mu...muggle-born, did you do it again three years ago? All I knew about that incident was that Ginny Weasley had been involved and that Father had been furious that summer. He'd told me he’d freed our house elf because he was a useless piece of rubbish but I never really believed him.” Malfoy mumbled and Tom listened in on his version of events and added the missing information to the hole-filled story he had gathered from Harry and his friends.

“I did open the chamber, but I only came to this timeline two months ago; Ginny Weasley had been the one to open it a second time.” Malfoy snorted and was about to say something sarcastic no doubt before he looked at Tom’s raised eyebrows and closed his mouth.

Weasley had mentioned Harry returning the diary to Malfoy’s father with a sock inside it, which implied he was the one who had the diary. Quite foolish of Voldemort to leave one of his first Horcruxes with a follower but Tom was barely surprised at the number of bad decisions his alternate self made and continued on making. “Your father was in possession of an object Voldemort had cast a powerful curse on that would ultimately lead to the opening of the chamber of secrets. I can wager a guess that Voldemort trusted your father with it and told him he could use it to wreak chaos. Ginny Weasley was the unfortunate victim to fall upon that object and was thus made to the chamber.”

Malfoy looked gobsmacked and let out a sigh. “I see, and how do you exactly know any of this if you just... got here two months ago?” he asked and Tom smiled,

“You and I both know how ruthless I can be when seeking information and after finding out Weasley was somehow involved with the Chamber of Secrets, I did a little forceful digging when Dumbledore left me for a night with the Weasleys this summer. You could say I struck gold in that empty head of hers.”

Malfoy bit his lip and looked at Tom carefully. “So somehow Dumbledore trusts you, was he the one who put you in Gryffindor?”

Tom smiled at the blonde warmly and watched his cheeks redden slightly. It seemed direct eye contact and a smile had quite the effect on Malfoy. 

_That’s an interesting reaction to probe at later._

“It was him, yes and I would not go so far as to say that the old coot trusts me, he was always mistrustful of me even when I was my transfiguration professor back in my time. He suspects I know Voldemort’s real identity and so he has kept me around. The fact I was the most brilliant student he’d ever taught helped my case as well. That and Slughorn insisting I attend Hogwarts. It was easy to find a place with those simple Gryffindors when they saw I had Dumbledore’s backing.” 

Malfoy scoffed. “Potter and his gang would definitely hump a blast-ended skrewt if Dumbledore asked them to. They worship that old fool.” Malfoy’s voice was dripping with hate and disgust and Tom considered him for a second. 

“Potter is highly suspicious of you by the way. Especially since you seemed to be bragging about your mission on the train. He’s not an idiot and your words have only sparked whatever silly rivalry you two have with each other. He is highly suspicious of you, so I suggest you’re careful with whatever plans you have with Dumbledore.”

Malfoy muttered something that sounded a lot like Bloody Potty and Tom cleared his throat before whatever stupid tirade he was about to be subjected was started. “I don’t care much for the trivial shite you two have going on. Just be more careful.” Malfoy nodded petulantly and Tom had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He took in Malfoy’s disheveled state and sighed. The other teen still looked like death warmed over. 

“Come here,” he ordered, bringing out his own wand. Malfoy swallowed in apprehension before adopting his bored pure-blood demeanor. Good to know he listened to orders quite well at least.

“You look like a bloody Inferius, I assume you’re not very familiar with human transfiguration?” he asked and Malfoy’s mouth pinched sourly before he shook his head. “I was busy learning Occlumency this summer,” he tried to justify after he saw Tom’s unimpressed look only to earn himself an annoyed glare this time. Tom was somewhat grateful the other teen was aware of Occlumency but he also hated the fact because his mastery of the mind art had made things more difficult for Tom the previous night.

“I did not ask,” Tom said curtly and Malfoy mumbled apologetically when Tom aimed his want at his face. “Relax your features I’m not going to hex you. I’m just fixing your features a bit. Or I could hex you with something that could keep you in bed for another week recuperating? Which was a very foolish move.” Malfoy shook his head and avoided looking straight at Tom’s eyes as he worked on making the other’s dark circles disappear and turning his pale almost sickly face more healthy-looking.

“I-I have a plan for Dumbledore,” Malfoy said after Tom had made the other’s hair look neater and brushed a hand through it with amusement. It seemed Malfoy’s weak point really was his hair. 

“Something other than the vanishing cabinet I presume?” 

Malfoy nodded. “I have this cursed necklace that kills at the touch. I’m planning on delivering it to him using a random student.” Tom raised his eyebrows. So that was what the necklace was for then… A stupid assassination attempt that had about the same probability for success as that of Dumbledore turning Tom into a good wizard and hugging him. 

“Are all your plans this stupid, Draco?”

Malfoy spluttered and seemed like he was about to say something before he glared at Tom. “They’re not stupid, I already have the Three Broomsticks owner under the Imperius curse this summer, I will use her to Imperio a random trustworthy Gryffindor student at the first Hogsmeade outing and—”

“Filch would detect the object and take it away, he has a probity probe, or have you forgotten? Not to mention a student having to trek from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts with a cursed object that would kill them the moment they touch it is definitely not the way to transport a cursed object. This is a half-assed plan at best. And unless you just want to draw attention to the fact that someone is attempting to murder Dumbledore, then your plan is atrocious and should be rethought.”

Malfoy looked like he had just smelled some extremely strong Stinksap and was giving off a petulant expression Tom had not seen since his first year when Tom had gotten the best grade in their year and Avery was throwing a fuss about it. 

“He still would not know who’s attempting to kill him…” Malfoy and Tom conceded the point with a nod. “True. However, Dumbledore is astute and smart enough to realise it was orchestrated by a student. Especially with how clumsy the attempt is. Great initiative with the Hogsmeade resident though. I’ll help you come up with a better plan, ideally by the time I finish the magical contract which I'm almost done with.” Tom said and Malfoy seemed resigned as he acquiesced.

“We will need to find a way to meet up and communicate seamlessly. Also an excuse to give people in case someone ever finds us together.” Tom said and Malfoy hesitated before he brought out a galleon. Tom raised his brows and watched as Malfoy turned smug.

“I made these this summer. I got inspired by Mudblood Granger who used it to communicate with that stupid D.A last year. It’s basically a way to communicate without fear of being noticed.” Tom opened up his palm and Malfoy dropped the galleon there. He brought out a similar coin from his pocket and seemed to write something on it. Tom felt the galleon heat up in his palm and looked at the simple _Sat 5 am RR_ message that was now written on it.

“I see so there’s a Protean charm cast on these… So Granger made these? Well in any case good thinking Draco. I would need to be careful with it around Potter and his friends though, but a perfect way to set up meetings. I will give you the time and place for our next meeting then.” He said and Malfoy seemed to preen at his praise. “Quite ingenious isn’t it?” Tom nodded patiently and grabbed the other’s shoulder in a way similar to how Weasley and Harry did.

“Make sure to take plenty of rest today, Draco. And if you’re interested I can give you a copy of my notes in class Monday. I'm sure no one of your friends will have taken notes as good as mine.” He said with a smirk and Malfoy looked taken aback for a while before he smiled hesitantly. “Thanks… Tom.”

After coming back to the common room and having to convince the fat lady he had been out for Quidditch practice and nothing nefarious, Tom climbed up the stairs to their dorm room and was somewhat relieved to see Harry’s bed curtains were still closed in on his bed even as the first light of the day was coming through the window. He grabbed a change of clothes and a towel before heading to take a shower, making sure not to make any noise. He was not exactly in the mood to face Harry or his intrusive questions about being up so early in the morning. Tom cleaned himself quickly and efficiently and watched as the water swirled at his feet and into the drain. It had been a while since he’d taken a long shower and took care of his physical need, so he figured now was as good a time as any to ease the tension building in his body. 

Tom had only discovered the pleasure that would come with touching his cock one morning when he woke up aroused and was curious to experiment with it. He knew it was frowned upon and his grandmother had even called a couple of village boys who had been caught masturbating weak-minded, but Tom of course disregarded that. In Hogwarts, by the time they all had started the fourth year, it was not out of the ordinary for his dorm mates to spell their curtains shut and let out muffled sounds of pleasure. Tom didn’t exactly feel the need to practice it with a girl or woman in mind as some of his roommates seemed to do but was only after the deep satisfaction it brought. 

Tugging at his cock lazily, Tom kept a steady slow rhythm as he felt himself harden. He stood under the showerhead feeling the drizzle of the warm water on his head as he rubbed his hand around his cockhead and closed his eyes as a small moan escaped his lips. He thought he heard something like a gasp but he was too encaptured in his own pleasure to care. He wasn’t exactly shy or ashamed so if someone heard him it did not matter, he doubted they would even bring it up. After all, it was an unspoken rule that whoever noticed or heard something from another room mate would just ignore it. 

Tom picked up the pace and jerked his cock with a tighter grip, turning the water and grabbing a bit of soap to help with friction. He rubbed against his cockhead, squeezed his bollocks with his other hand, and moaned yet again, this time slightly louder. He was getting close and the pleasure kept spiking up as he rubbed his hand up and down faster and faster until he closed his eyes and bit his lips to muffle his loudest moan yet as started shooting rope after rope of semen. His legs shook for a bit and he leaned against the wall as the pleasure hit him like a wave and he shuddered. It was absolute bliss. Tom rubbed himself until the shuddering stopped and he felt his oversensitive cock start to soften. 

Feeling totally satiated and in a marvelous mood, Tom stepped out of the shower and realized he’d left his towel near the sinks. It didn’t have much on the Prefects bath he’d been using for the last year but empty dorm showers were still pretty great. There was a loud noise just as Tom turned around, about to wrap his towel around himself and Tom turned around making a grab for his wand and pointing it in the direction of the sound. “If this is some type of prank, I’m warning you I am not the type you should mess with.” He said and was about to cast a stupefy when there was a sigh and Harry came out from under his invisibility cape.

Tom frowned, he’d considered it of course but what the hell was going on?

Harry looked red-faced and seemed to be trying his hardest to look Tom in the eyes and nowhere else as he glared furiously. “What is it, Harry? Did you miss me so much you were waiting for me to finish showering?” Tom asked going for humor. Harry scoffed and shoved what looked like a piece of parchment down his trousers before he glared up at Tom. Could it be that he'd been followed then? Tom would not bring it up first though, because if he did he might just get too angry and do something to Harry that would set things back even more than they are now.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing meeting up with Malfoy at five am,” Tom’s smile froze “but believe me, Tom, if—”

“I was not with Malfoy.” Tom cut him off abruptly. He had checked back on his trip to the dungeons this morning and he'd made sure he was not being followed by anyone as he made his way down to the dungeons and when he came back the fat lady said clearly there was only one instance when someone opened the portrait and nobody came out. Tom knew she would not lie to him as he had managed to charm quite well during their brief conversations. This meant that just like how Harry had been suspicious last Saturday, this sudden line of questioning was not from him following Tom. Did he have an in with some ghosts? Did he talk to portraits? What the hell was it? Was this the Hermione had mentioned?

Harry looked furious and was about to say something when Tom smiled condescendingly at him. “Do you mind? I’m not wearing anything but a towel, and I’m not really in the mood to get accused by a friend like this.” He said and Harry’s eyes drifted down to his towel before his angry blush seemed to increase immensely and he cursed under his breath. Tom looked at him expectantly until he huffed and left back to the dorm room. 

Tom’s facade fell for a second and he took a deep breath in order not to follow after Harry and tell him to reveal what the hell kind of trick allowed him to keep track of Tom like this. He quickly put on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and walked to the dorm room. Harry was on Tom’s bed. Tom sighed and cast a Muffliato before he sat on Harry's bed as Harry seemed to be paging through his Half-Blood Prince’s book. Did that book somehow alert him of Tom’s whereabouts? No that was ridiculous, Tom had checked that book and it was nothing but a bunch of scribbles on an already second-hand book.

“Nothing to say Harry?” he asked pleasantly enough and watched with mild annoyance as Harry ignored him for a bit before he looked up at him.

“I know you’re lying to me, and I know there’s no way I can get you to tell me the truth. So what’s the point of saying anything? Just remember your part of the deal and know that I do not trust you at all. I’m not childish or rash enough to push someone like you because while I know I can take you on a duel, I also know I have nothing to gain from it. You’re also seemingly keeping up your part of the deal. The moment you break it though? All bets are off, Tom. I will not be some pawn in your games and I sure as fuck will not allow you to do that to my friends either. So keep your secrets about what exactly you’re doing with a baby death eater like Malfoy but know that the moment I find out or if I turn up to Dumbledore’s office with anything wrong, you’re finished. But I’m sure someone as smart as you already knew that, right?”

Tom felt numb with rage. Harry got up from Tom's bed and looked at him expectantly and Tom got up to let the other settle in.

His fingers itched for his wand _pain, pain, torture, pain,_ his mind supplied. How dare this pathetic scum think to threaten him? Tom Fucking Riddle, future minister of magic. The wizard who would bring about the dawn of a new wizarding age. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Getting angry would only backfire now, he needed to find how Potter knew of his meeting with Malfoy and plan around it. He was definitely grateful for the galleon Malfoy had given him. They would only communicate with it until he found out Potter’s advantage.

“Very well, I’m a bit disappointed you chose not to believe about Malfoy but I suppose, trust cannot be built in barely fifteen days of knowing each other can it?” he asked with a pleasant enough voice and watched as Harry scowled at his book and seemed to struggle with remaining impassive.

“How long were you in the bathroom by the way? Is that something you usually do? Wear your invisibility cape while others take a shower? That’s quite concerning,” he gauded, wanting Harry to explode and maybe for something to slip up with his anger.

Harry seemed to turn scarlet red as he spluttered. “I was following you and I had just gotten there when you were almost finished,” Harry said through gritted teeth. Tom smiled patronisingly. “Of course you did. Well as long as you were only there by the end. I would be quite embarrassed if you’d arrived earlier as I was quite busy under the shower.” he said aiming for the anger that he supposed any other boy would feel when being accused of what Tom was implying. 

Harry looked at Tom and turned around almost immediately, “I did not hear anything at all, all right! Why are we even talking about this?! Merlin, Tom I told you I’m over things okay? Let’s just move on.”

Tom smiled one of his fake smiles. “So you believe me then? About Malfoy? Because I know for a fact you weren’t following me, or else your shoes would be wet as I went through a flooded corridor.” Tom said lying through his teeth but wanting to catch Potter in on his lie.

Harry just gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I believe you yes. You know what? I’m still sleepy and today’s the Quidditch tryouts I need to be on my best form.” Harry said before closing his book and putting it in his trunk. He left the curtains open as he climbed back and settled properly on his bed. Tom’s polite smile felt taut as he settled back on his own bed. 

Things kept on getting worse and he might end up doing something drastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so missed my schedule by a day or two cuz life got in the way but I wanted to give you guys a chapter so I cut short what I had written before and separated it into two chapters. I will hopefully finish up the second chapter by next week.
> 
> So yeah there's some smut, asked a friend of mine who is demisexual what his thoughts on my fic were and he was like dude Tom would definitely jerk off and I was like oh? and he kinda shared a bit of how it felt for him to jerk off when he was single and so yeah I was like okay if I'm breaking my no smut promise it's going to be for that lol. Sorry if the terms were a bit awkward I wasn't sure if they used balls and cum in the 1940s hhhhhh.
> 
> This chapter was meant as just the start of a much bigger chapter but I feel it still has quite a bit of plot but well as I said before I wanted to stay true to my weekly schedule as much as possible so yeah I dropped it now.
> 
> Thank you for reading and have a great week <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are highly appreciated and comments literally give me so much motivation so please don't hesitate to write whatever you want in there. And in case you have more on your mind that you wanna share you can reach me at @princegayming on Tumblr or @moontimefilter on twitter if you wanna talk betaing or just shoot the shit.


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